Lived in the Morning Man

...flies in May and June, life is over far too soon. D. Florian

Unfairly forced upon the Mayfly Man
were the lies of sunrise and the deceits of sunset
Nowhere inside his morning, noon, or night
laid a promise of more than a single day of light

Born to his mother
were the fading arms and hands, and failing feet
of him, a baby, innocent, alive for an hour, then another,
and another, until the final hour turned the color of milk sour
emptying his mind and body like a dying flower

Born by morning a beginning for the mayfly man
Ending by noon the wonders of his boy dreams in the sand
His full life passed in the seconds of the chime of time's hand
After the evening a bell sang the last chime of his time
As final, and finally, as the sun finished its climb

His life a life from dawn to dusk
A baby at eight, teen at noon, god's will what a fate
To be an old man in the evening,  and in the evening late
To be dying a dying man's death a little after eight

To be the mayfly man
His life a life in a day, pure and grande