Late in life

Some, at least,

Of us

Become ambivalent

Reluctant

To declare

"The way it is"

Or "was"

Because we are

Ourselves

In dissolution

Caught in

Winding down

Or out

But assuredly

Not up.

We are there

Almost against the wall

Perplexed because

It's there

And who's to give?

Neither - if

Nor we, willingly,

Without a rag out

Of argument.

And it is the argument

That does us in

For the small

Still voice, after all

Is ours

Against the wind

Within the space

Between the wall

And us.

The wall is silent

For it is final

And we know it

Here and now

And will be then

When we ourselves

Have hushed.

Addie W. Williams
1-11-1983