Less Than an Hour

I’ve got 45 minutes to try to enjoy
What’s left of what’s been a most
Beautiful day. The temperature’s
Warm, not hot. There’s a breeze.
The smoke which was coming frrom
Canada’s gone. A bicycle ride,
Or a walk, or nap would have been
The best uses of such splendid hours.
Instead, we’ve been cleaning ahead
Of a party tomorrow, and it’s
Guaranteed to be dull, chock-a-block
With young families, dullards with
Armies of ill-behaved children,
Meaningless pleasantries, tedious
Contests, a tableau of misery,
And, before that, I’m obliged to be
Part of a call with my siblings to hash
Out what we’ll have to do with our mother,
Who’ll be 91 in a week, and keeps proving,
Despite her assertions of enduring
Competence, by means of falls
And a vanishing memory, that she
Must submit to somebody’s care.
How delightfully this mild sun warms
My skin, and this breeze leaves me as I
Wish I’d always be, as I’ll try to be for,
At this point, but ten minutes, before
Everything goes to hell.


Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 42 times
Written on 2023-05-21 at 03:15

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arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
Wow that is quite a time limit as the Sun brings about a certain familiar change.