Seconds like icicle live on memory's stretch:
some get to glim others slip away. It's said
departure is for the defunct. In a way our coffin
was dead on. In freedoms we locate ourselves:
some faulty some flawless. Pecksniffism fits
the professorial gig. The unusual graces our
marquee. We strive to fess up. Our memoirs
will be mettlesome.