eye witness both

thirty years and still haven't
figured out what the hell
eye am doing here
in front of everyone eye know
and those eye will never know
what to make of sunrise and sunset
those two nearly perfect moments of each day
most of the time eye witness both...

all this time wishing something
would happen and send this thought
train rocket style into orbit
still struggling with all the thoughts
about what eye might want to be
when eye grow up no matter what
eye will not be happy with the end
of ts Eliot's life he did pen
wasteland and wound up in
the church of England
two simultaneous moments in time
as far away as they can be
eye witness both

stretching this truth here because
these moments here are bendable
and no lives depend on any decisions
made out on the back porch
as close as eye get to back woods
small fire at my feet
and in one month it will be summer
doesn't even feel like spring
and eye witness both...