I’ve been refused epic talent,
power, fame
a long-lived marriage
and grateful children,
what I wanted in my prime,
in that order
and before that,
as a pious youth, I was refused
a world without epic greed, epic hurt.
About that I am still angry,
But about the rest, about all the rest
I am not angry,
and about all that came my way,
all my parochial achievements,
I am pleased,
more than pleased,
I am profoundly grateful,
at times even blissed out
by the wholes and the fragments of my fate,
the camaraderie and comforts, all the kisses--
for all I was not refused, at sunset
I kneel under the partial moon, the
hiding star.
