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09/24/10 - (7)
Lost in Thought
Earlier, this rain-mottled Friday afternoon, When I hiked through the slumberous camp (Its paths stippled with pine needles and maple leaves, After the rough, wet gusts of the last forty-eight hours, And its seven drinking fountains having been shut off, Depriving me of water I needed, to keep thirst at bay), Walked amidst the shuttered cabins' silent refuge, Where, each summer for the past eighty-two years, Boys have grown, by steps small and great, into life,
I realized I was not only not growing younger But that I wasn't growing older, either, Rather holding still, going nowhere fast or gradually So much as readjusting to the evolutionary throes In which my coalescing spirit has been groping, Hoping to find an opening into my renascent soul. Indeed, what caught me up, lost me in thought, Was that now, in the ambiguity of my future's unfolding, I might consider this to be my natural time to leave.
09/24/10 - (7)
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