Fifty!

FIFTY to-day!
And suddenly I saw my years as a series of pyramidal gray heaps,
Tiny ashen mounds lying in the golden receiver of the Past.
What god has used my soul as a cigar? 

Benjamin De Casseres

 

Sources: 

  • Life, June 8, 1916, p. 1078
  • Washington Post, June 16, 1916, p. 6