Uncle Bob's Words

Words, poetry, stuff like that

Archive for the month “July, 2013”

July 25, 2013

It occurred to me as I drove to work today:

Fifty years ago, I was in basic training,

Lackland AFB in sizzling San Antonio.

“I am in a state of grace,” I thought.

“In passing through that half century,

All the drama, the trauma, the joy,

I’ve survived.”

 

I admit the years of running did a number

On my lower spine and I’m a bit arthritic,

But I’m in no great pain and have no great angst.

I still work a full forty and change,

Walk three hours a week, live quietly,

Live alone, unlonely, finally.

Go, me, go!

When I was younger

When I was younger, the race to be me

Generated a bow wave of those things

I needed to do, to learn, to understand.

Lately, that wave has become

A gentler indicator of still forward movement

To smaller goals, lighter learning,

And slow contemplation of understanding.

I no longer have to beat at the doors of art.

I have passed the need for a relationship.

I am more comfortable with my failures.

I may look like hell warmed over.

But I have no need to care.

July 14, 2013

It’s a beautiful day.

The mid-July sun saturates colors

As the insouciant breeze

Mellows out the heat.

This one’s a keeper.

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