morning poem March 15, 2016




What I remember is the good things

How strong we were, how fast

How we could never imagine being used up

Or finally losing

Or being too tired to go.


How bold we were, how foolishly bold

And how by God’s grace we got away with it

Our cars did not crash and our motorcycles

Did not end up in ditches or rivers

Even though, by all rights, we now know

They should have.


How deep were our loves

And how wildly optimistic.


Copyright 2016

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