An hour is an hour anywhere;
At least on Earth, and that is all I've got.
An hour can consume one hour's care,
No more, and that I call a blessed lot,
For when one that I love is far from me
In danger or in some way under stress
I can but worry chronologically
An hour in an hour's harsh duress.
I cannot fret away a year or more
In wondering what their tomorrow brings,
For ere I did, I'd know what was in store:
It would have happened. And that knowledge sings
Within me: I can worry, and I will,
But every hour's but an hour still.
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