Young mother,
there with your son,
Pray tell us, dear daughter,
what have you done?

“Why, the Future, my dear!
You see him right here.
And the Future
has barely begun.”

And what’s to be told
for the Future of old,
like us, no longer
so young?

Does the Future behold
anything gold?
For the Future
is ever at rest.

“It boils down to this:
it too, shall unfold;
Since a mother
knows her youngster

the best.

And old Father Time?
He still will unwind,
the Future grows old,

Thus then went
our tête-à-tête,
myself with the mother
of child I had met.

The child lies still
in its small bassinet,
which serves just as well
for all I could tell,

Because the Future
still waits to beget.


©2013, Marvin Loyd Welborn

revised 14 April 2014.


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