for Roland

Who am I to tell you, but
please think of it this way
today becomes tomorrow, which
will soon be yesterday

and life is long and life is short
while every spinning star
switched on and will switch off, without
being conscious what they are

but you and I can cogitate
till kingdom come, although
whether or not it ever will
we know we’ll never know

and suffering goes on and on
with no apparent end
just ancient short-term remedies:
a book; red wine; a friend

with whom to walk along the beach
and swim far out to sea
and celebrate how good it is
to live in Brittany.

Tom Vaughan

If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Tom Vaughan  would be pleased to hear them