Martin Robertson

Now and Then

[The track up the wild stream]

The track up the wild stream,

blocked by a fallen tree,

beyond it fades and fails

between rock-broken falls

and rough growth of the steep

difficult slope.

People have scrambled up.

I try to follow, but

too steep, rough, hard

for this old

body.  I yield,

a little sad.

Not very.  I’ve had

a good day; now at evening aware

of so much more to bless me than I could dare

hope, it would be


to lament

more than gently this slackening strength.