Contemplation on Development

I am, within myself, a shade of infidelity,
a pall blowing in the winds of development,
refusing to be laid over the coffins of childhood and adolescence.
I stand with spades of decision round about.
I am plunging my hands knuckle deep into rich soil,
yet refusing to dig the six needed feet.
I am found at the place where children's night ends
and the morning sun of adulthood drops its rays onto my grave;
I stand in the dusk of between, not knowing how to mourn my own death.