Along the Path that Embodies My Time

Along the path that embodies my time,
  I’ve long since left where I had once passed through,
  And all aside the road, rank swamp and slime
  From present and from past is plain in view.
Those noxious fumes crawl up and foul the air,
  At other times, the flora masks their sight
  But when all buds are gone, all trees laid bare,
  Flat honesty: Nothing obscures such blight.
And how I wish I still could hold your hand
  A steady, vivid pulse to thwart the chill…
  The sun could follow us and our command
  The swamp would dry and drain under my will.
But our two paths may not converge again –
Such atmosphere compels all good to end.

Written March, Revised April 29/May 1, 2012