Wise, the one who tidies up
Upon hearing the tolling bell,
Packs the bags and closes shop
Nothing more to buy nor sell

The trudge back home might weary be
Dreary, too, perhaps, but
Needs to be made in one piece
Not severed, nor faintly cut.

Each Day does its Night meet
Like lovers, if you will
But again, nothing is eternal here
It’s all, Until...............

And,  what about those who listen not
What should they be doing ?
Simply, carry on doing what they do
Until........... just keep on going.

(The author is a prolific poet who has over 30 poetry books to his credit. He can be reached at ashoksawhny06@gmail.com/ www.ashoksawhny.com)