Youth

I barely notice as it slides away,
The motions are so subtle and so slow,
Not even measured in each passing day,
But in the years which calmly come and go
Meandering as if, their purpose lost
A melancholy age ago, they wept
Cold tears that chilled by time into a frost
Whose slow expansion, even as they swept
Forever out the circles of the year,
Forced them out of the straight path to the curve,
Which now I follow, frigid and austere
Bent to a never-ending frozen swerve.
And so I waste away in time's dark chill
Forever moving yet forever still.