On summer solstice, on my wall,
Three pictures meet the dawning light:
The lady flirts; two warriors fight
Across their frames, but one won’t fall—
Ah, no! Their place in Time’s long view
Is not outcome, but rather striv-
Ing; and, no less, the Dame won’t wive
To either—hers to hope, not do.
As time progresses, angling rays
Illuminate successive parts,
Not all at once; and by these arts
They seem to fare in different ways,
And yet, they don’t: There is no Hence.
The evening darkens, goes to night,
But still they love, but still they fight
No less than we: Their fate, suspense.