Centaur on a Hill
I pause, at sunset, on a hill,
And watch the sky turn dark, and still,
I swish my tail, thoughtfully,
And think about eternity.
Each moment will not come again,
Or will they, someday? If so, when?
I shift my weight, adjust my hooves,
And notice how the world moves.
I learn, I age, gain, and the price,
I profit by, and give advice.
There's grey in certain parts of me,
A treasure-trove, of memory.
There's lovers held, and races won,
There's things both well, and badly done.
I can be proud, I should be meek,
I grow more thoughtful, when I speak.
And yet, I watch the foals at play,
I hear the things their mothers say,
And smile, in secret, and stand guard,
No, keeping to myself's not hard.
I've old friends scented, in the breeze,
And new friends met, to pass at ease
A lazy hour in drink, and song,
And such an hour is not long.
I feel, still, something lies ahead,
Good books to be obtained, and read.
Old knowledge found, and brought to light,
And poems and tales I'm meant to write.