We scurry to the edges of our time
We (waste not, want not) save up all our dimes.
(A penny's none too dear these days.) We strain
With waiting out, wading through the stain,
The ooze, morass, of one more tricky year
That's what we say, in case the neighbors hear.
And oh the tricks we turn; when rainbows fade,
We pull 'em down and sew 'em up. (Fair trade
Certified, of course.) And clouds we use -
diverse in black and white and all gray hues.
Ingenious Business rolling up her sleeves.
"They must be fed and clothed," she says, "And please
Don't tell me it's their future that I'll take."
A pause. "To gain the present, I will stake
Tomorrow." And she moves back to her work.
...
Stuck on the last line. Suggestions?













