These Times
These are desperate times,
And our hearts grow gray
Even as our lawns grow greener;
And the hairs grow grayer
Masking the matter within
While we seek the browns and reds and golds
To carry ourselves outward.
The signs of ancient times and youths
Show plainly the pleasures we wrought upon ourselves;
Cigarettes and suntans burn again
In the valleys and grooves
The universal needle scratches out.
We grow greener, greener,
Unequipped and wanting
To grasp at novel straws these times hold out to us;
And we grow grayer, grayer,
Reaching ever outward to color ourselves
While the browns and reds and golds
Fade within.
©2000 Elizabeth Hebert
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