Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.
~ From: "The force that through the green fuse drives the flower", Dylan Thomas
Sometimes, when I see the folks grow near to dying, I have to remember that we are all relatively close to such a thing and even if I turned my head away, the distance would never become any greater.
* * *
I go around among these sights, among the crowded hospitals doing what I can, yet it is a mere drop in the bucket. . .the path I follow, I suppose I may say, is my own.”
~ From: "Drum Taps", Walt Whitman