It’s too late to change the way.
Even the moon has moved on
and the occasional star imploded.
Such is the secret of eternal strife.
It’s too late to remember the way
the beginning began with a raindrop and a puddle,
the way it always has.
As if a merry-go-round mattered,
as if a smile could make up
for all the sins,
for all the fragments.
In a nutshell, the end may be already beginning.
As STONES cried, “All will be revealed – in due course”.
From Bath to Cork with baby Grace 