How weary is this

How weary is this

Dog end day

A last stand

For the ancients

Who walk among us

Cloaked in faded

Histories long past

Cast starkly in relief

Of invisibility

Slowly sets the sun

On dreams of equinox

As light spills

Into a stream

Of conscious thought

To set your clocks by

In its restless march

Toward regress

With every tick tock

In retrograde

What was thought

Is forgot

In a search

For hidden truths

Lost in a construct

Of assorted meanings

Before the spring

Is sprung

And rebirth

Starts without us.