Entailed Estate

by MARY LAPSEEY

FROM unambiguous air you cannot draw
your breath;
Before, behind you, at your side
walks a new death.
This generation’s will for pain
bears in its train
No warranty of hope
That you may find retreat or know
the easy joy, the simple woe.

This heritage cannot be willed away.
Squander your hurt by night, by day,
An heir you must be still
To all this age’s ill,
an heir responsible:
Tomorrow your own heirs
Will question poor repairs.