You say to your friends
you're so glad to lose
the job that was not
your own to start with
They all say back
(so far, no exception)
Old age's catching up
with you, or such as that
Still you know it's true
quite beyond doubt,
and either side of it,
All's Grace to witness
You know you did not
a thing you can claim
to earn the land of the
living; perhaps picked
well your parents
The two, not-two made
you from a passion and
a pain known to them
alone; you but waited
in the wings for thin air
So All's Grace, to say it
again, and you will do
no better than to repeat
it over and over until
your breath gives way
All things contemplated,
but for losing one job
you might never have
found another rising
from the deep end
Still the two remain one
