Thin Hair in the Wind

Change mostly goes too slow
In most dimensions for
Human senses to follow,
And then it’s done. You start.
When did the days turn cool?

Where did the children go?
What happened to your world?
It’s not your fault, except
That a belief in faults
Is one of your core traits,

And so, in that sense, all
Faults are yours. Nonetheless,
You never invented
Your bodies, your senses,
Your little niche in which

You’re aware of changes.
Oddly, those are the things,
The kinds of things you do
Reprimand yourself for—
I should have been watching

The clock, the calendar.
I shouldn’t have just let
The time fly by like that.
Oh, and what would you have
Done better, mighty one?