These days are my days, though they do not belong to me. And the
years as well. Each one is a gift, a gift that can't be
reciprocated.
Like old friends, like white clouds, they drift on and on
and never come back. No
failure or success bedevils their destiny. Let them be, dear Lord, just
let them be.
I'll pay it all back in the afterlife.
from
Outtakes (Sarabande, 2010
)