Saturday, June 24, 2017

Letter to a Younger Man

David M. Harris

I'm sorry but I don't
remember you that well. Short, yes,
brown hair, I remember that,
and thinner than I am. But exactly
who you were? Obscure. And why
you were so very stupid
sometimes, I can't imagine.
The anger and awkwardness have attenuated
into the textures of an ordinary life.
Better that way. The hunger for distinctions
has been reduced, balanced
by belly. I barely remember all those fires
of our precarious heart.
I'm sorry to report we did not transfigure
ourselves or the world. That dream is just
a memory. We did more good than harm.
I cleave to that,
and try to keep your memory content.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.