a single feather drops

a simple cycle sun and night and rain
is not enough to make this world a park
not one of us expects to leave a mark
or know much more than what is clear and plain
when we are born that life begins in pain
and ends just where it starts in the cold dark
each of us hides from facts so wholly stark
but we are not allowed just to abstain
our task to enter in the line of dance
and learn the steps perhaps essay a whirl
not seeming to be out of proper place
while making the whole ensemble advance
and letting the new ribbon lose its curl
in a bright measure of perfected grace