Oh, to feel, 

Indeed, to BE unhurried again

To have the time 

To take time,  to

Shrug off this weighty mantle of desperation;

This, alas, is the privilege of the young, where 

We who've seen 

Fifty (plus) years

Who've lost that which we were

Once so able to take for granted, must

Pressed by time and the march of Entropy,

fev'rishly rush to secure our nests, to

Bolster our stores

All the while, too aware of the approaching winter.