Newburgh No.1 (Through)

How can it be That my turn Has gone past me Those running feet Unbridled In my own street Do not fit me At all At all These strange days That old black hat Worn to brown The feral cat That froze carefree Know the same About this me As of these days Nothing Nothing Like that age The farm since gone Heavy axe Yellowed the lawn Anemic mall Sputtering Maybe to fall God what a sight To know To know About now And so I sit Rhythmically Thinking like it Minding my joints As I should My final points To lay out here It's hard It's hard To peak through To peak through