March 10, 2011
Once the invincible gambler,
I was weaned on cowboy heroics
to wear the scrapes and scars
of chance and circumstance
stiffly—my bones now groan
ground under the pressure
of time, worn smooth as cobbles
in a creekbed. Stride shortened,
my feet slide searching for stability,
having danced this earth as one
in my collected dreams aboard
four great horses I’ve outlived—
I am learning to change my mind,
to find the flavor in a moment
I’ll not savor another time.
drycrikjournal 
A celebration or a lament…….or the other way around?
Doesn’t matter does it?
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Poignant, John!
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Thanks, Louise, we know how it goes.
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That last verse is so good, John. This poem reminds me of my dad.
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Thank you, Janet. Getting to this frame of mind is unavoidable for me. If the poem reminds you of your dad, I trust he came to the same conclusions. I tend, even at this late date, to miss the present while trying to live in the future… which is seldom rewarding.
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Well, this one brought quick hot tears to my eyes. Beautiful capture, John. Happy New Year to you and the family. May you all be as well as possible in 2023 — and Dry Creek, too.
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Thanks’s Laurie, I’m preaching to myself with the hope I can live a little longer in the moment. Probably take half-dozen more of ‘in the moment’ poems to see an improvement.
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I’m with JEG
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