A chilly night, with mice

I might have kept a brisker pace if I had marked the sky;

Within that oddly tempting place, the colors held my eye.
.

I'd never seen such naughty green, such wanton pink display

To punctuate erotic scene where insects serve all day.
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Come-hither stink to summon aid:  the pollen bearers came!

The posies sure were getting laid; I wished for me the same.
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At last my envy spurred me on; I really had to hop

Before the light was truly gone, as here no good to stop.

The stony ground, too harsh a bed for bones as old as these,

No pillow made for aging head.  The prospect lent unease.
.

In fading light I marked a lane toward a distant shack

And burned the map upon my brain, a hasty sketch of track

Upon the trackless rocky field abandoned to the night

In which I shambled self-concealed; by then I had no light.
.

In memory I put my faith--and little choice I had!

I stumbled on toward a wraith.
The chill was getting bad.
.

A late spring frost was on the way, the rising wind declared,

To kill the flowers of the day; and frankly, I was scared.
.

I wished I'd brought along my staff to test the path before.
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A grinning Sphinx enjoys a laugh I scornfully ignore,

My mind too busy with the ground:  a broken leg would kill.
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Another time for thoughts profound, when I've the time to fill.
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All grim resolve and chatter-tooth, I placed my steps with care

Toward the shelter of the booth I hoped was waiting there.
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That tiny shack perhaps a shed, a farmer's store for tools,

The place to go and not be dead,
a Xanadu
. . . .for fools Imprudently ill-clad, like me, against unhappy chance,

Forsaking caution just to see another vernal dance.
.

My lust for life might slay me yet, I ruefully admit,

And cleave to path I won't forget while all my pieces fit.
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Across the field and up the slope: the shack is there on top.
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I move uphill and dare to hope the sorry saga stops.
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Some bags of seed and nervous mice were all that I could find,

But this to me seemed very nice; I really didn't mind.

The wind and cold were left outside to shape another scheme.

I had my hide and injured pride and now the chance to dream

Again of life in sweeter clime among the sons of men.
.

This taste I'd had of cruel time convinces me again

That doors are wisely made to close against the killing cold

And there's no fun in being frozen; better gettin' old.
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Antique and weary, over-spent, I slept among the mice.
.

The morning's warmth was heaven-sent; I said so once or twice.
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The uneventful journey back does not demand report.

I found and followed easy track to keep my travel short,

And then the road that led to town, an easy ten mile walk.
.

My heart was glad.  I wore a frown:  in time I'd have to talk

Of limits learnt through lucky fate, of fragile human stuff.

For bragging rights, adventure's great--but had I learned enough?

A timid fossil, I survived; the flowers all had died.

What kind of truth from this derived? The wisdom was denied.
.
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A quart of beer at Clancy's Mess, with peanuts as a snack.

I'll get my coat from home, I guess--and then I'm heading back.