If there's a way we can describe this age
it won't be simple, direct, plain, or even fair
to us who live through each unusual year;
we're stuck between astonisment and rage.
Each of us wonders, perhaps, at this stage
why we should be amazed, or even care
about the things that lead to anger and despair
when we know, in the end, it's just a page
of history. And like every other, never sane
in any sense we give that too-short word.
The season that we live in is far too short
for us to judge it, we cannot yet see plain,
nor do we have the vantage of that bird
which takes our messages to those we court.