Ode to a Quarter

Everyone adores & loathes finite things
Minutes, hours, years, season, decade
One after another, flying without wings
Dropping, dripping, flowing like a cascade

Twenty five revolutions grasped in hand
Eagerly walk in the middle of tragedy
Embracing crisis as an old friend
Pouring it all in a finite rhapsody

Everyone adores & loathes finite things
Now it ends and we charge to begin anew
Yet before all that, let the poet swings
I wish you well and happy birthday to you

Malang, 27 April 2020
-FA

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