I must have been just old enough to understand:
The questions never asked were ones that had no answers.
It’s still the sort of thing that gives me pause –
Could Mark have really made so much a difference?
Were those Ancients on to something after all?
Back then I sometimes sensed “audition” – my role
A minor captive part within an audience of critics.
Would he be just as good an uncle as she was good an aunt?
So there were outings with some fun and mild adventure,
And later all reviews of high approval.
And then he disappeared, with Never Again Another
His replacement. Of course it’s true that lives went on,
If not so true for hopes and dreams. This does happen.
I wonder now: did these expire before or after
That exploratory Markiad? Fortune, fate, and chance,
And destiny they wrote about and probed, the workings of some gods.
I’m left to fathom mundane questions about elusive happiness.
