In This World Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

In this world and of this world,
we wonder whence we came and where to
morrow we will soon be whirled
through three score years and ten. Prepare! Two
moments matter, first cry hurled,
and last sigh [m]uttered, spluttered. There, too,
who remembers foetus curled
or corpse encoffined, both as bare to
any here. What flag unfurled
may wake the winds or ever dare to
show true way the world is twirled,
the how, the why, yet still speak fair... Who? ...