Occasional Impressions

Gemini 3

Nos Morituri

Now she is almost gone, we are awestruck,
Remembering the years of strength,
Of passion, of rough tenderness;
Her spirit's generosity, which yielded
Such rich dividends of hate and love,
Nothing petty or mean in either.

She was one of those whom poets have sung
In every age, being unfathomable
In all her ways, and only as predictable
As the certainty of turbulence.

There was nothing large enough to hold her,
Save perhaps one quiet man's love:
This gone from her, she spilled out
In heroic intensity of living

For a short while. But even heroes tire,
And old age quiets the loudest blood.
She is ending in peace,
Worn out at last with valiance.
jeh

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