another chilly dawn

we name the days and count them as they go
we celebrate their passing though the fact
that they are limited is ignored through tact
or else forgotten for the truth is that we know
that whether they go fast or go by slow
the end must surely come as to a city sacked
by the barbarians or to a fort attacked
by treacherous neighbours in a sudden blow
days come and go and while we long for pause
we know that termination comes at last
for each of us and that what we most fear
is not the blank absence of a primal cause
but that we'll linger while our moment's past
in hope that we might have a better year