Male Youth

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

Young men marooned in morning do not know

They dwell imprisoned there.  Their morning holds

Them, though they do not grasp that.  Glow

Of futures is too dim.  Tomorrows’ folds

Are waiting, spreading out too slowly for

Their eyes to understand.  The comfort of

Their current forenoon is enough.  No more

Is needed.  In this morning’s work and love

The young, secure and solid, do not need

Uncertainty of futures unperceived.

To live today is plenty, to succeed

In other distant decades not conceived.

  A morning is an iron and gold terrain,

    A prison and an emperor’s wide reign.

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