ἐν τῆ ποίεσει ὡς τῶ βίω
Ah, the hyphen of unfinished things, the unachieved
like that shaft of light in the fading sky, the lance
of a brush crossing the canvas! O, loss, that believed
in Time and its talent! The racing shadows advance.
(Walcott Tiepolo’s Hound)
In the midst of life, we are in death. (Book of Common Prayer)