Everything & Tu Fu 06/28/10

My daughter called to say she misses me,
a nephew beckons for a family get-together.
Up North, friends expect me for a wood-firing.
I have already begged off,
and here I sit, alone, in cool, green Inverness Park
with much to do,
with much to do,
with much to do,
and I don't know what to do.
And so,
I read Chinese poems,
translated by Kenneth Rexroth,
and find Tu Fu
"old, ill, and tired,
blown hither and yon,
lost between heaven and earth"
and see my face
across centuries and continents,
while yet another voice chides me,
"Boy, you just don't know"
and I don't, and
I don't know what to do, and
I am tired.