— Dale Carrasco

I … a head resting in a hand,
eyes open now …
watching the years go by,
strike off a month
as though a another day has past

Those little nephews and nieces
in college or working …
grandfather, grandmother
mother and father … in the grave,
the world of yesterday submerging
beneath construction’s latest incarnation

The clouds still form and reform overhead,
those weeds by the old part of the fence
grow fresh again this spring

Across the way the school yard turns over
with the chatter and screams of school children at noon recess … like when I was a kid,
later, the school yard, now empty, fades slowly into the visiting fog …
I hear the faint rap of the tether-ball chain against the steel pole, and for a moment … I forget

days and days and days gone by,
the reckoning of memory the only path
back through the life which was …

But now, life … Is … more to come?
Yes … so raising the head from the hand
opening the pockets, one looks forward …
gathering, giving, remembering … that is all

One thought on “Chastened

  1. "To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,To the last syllable of recorded time;And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!"When I read Macbeth in high school, I had bit of an existential scare, only to comfort myself that I was still young. With each passing year, I find Macbeth’s words catching up me. Yes, Dale, you and me and everyone, the candle is burning down, and each month and year ahead becomes more precious! Yes, there is more life to come!

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