Two poems of aging that feel as true today as ever and always...
Approaching my 75th
Life is generally
More understandable to me,
Or at least it feels that way.
My time divided
Between remembrance
And hope,
Between my past
And my future
While simultaneously
Always trying to hold onto
the eternal present
which is all any of us ever have.
Shit!
Listen to me
Playing
Wise old guy.
(Laughing out loud).
Whatever legacy I leave
However great or small
Will be wiped away by
Time and distance.
Lincoln once said,
“The world will little note
Nor long remember
What we say here”
When in truth
These are his
Most famous words
And about the only thing
The world does remember
About that place/day/time.
If yer reading on
In anticipation
Of added
Meaning and value,
Forget about it —
I’ve just given you
The best I’ve got
And whether it’s enough or not
Isn’t going to matter much
In the end
Either.
Year’s End
As we come to the end
of this difficult year
it’s hard not to feel
a deep despair
at the twisted
ways our country
has turned:
Facts: irrelevant
Truth; subject to preference
Ideals, justice, fairness, ethics…
mine are right
and anyone who disagrees
is wrong.
Hard not to feel despair,
in fact,
impossible.
Yet
the air feels so
cold and crisp today,
almost as if
it doesn’t care
what kind of
madness
we are making.
And in the high wind
miles above the dirt and seas
nothing is listening to us
and there is no such thing
as time
neither
past nor now,
nor ever.
