I remember flickering, fleeting campfire & firefly lit images
of long-ago times of childhood’s yearning for the coming of summer
so, to race from the city to the country
gamboling, effortlessly, tirelessly, pell-mell o’er hill and dale,
heading fearlessly, astride a massive steed, down winding trails,
canoeing, boundlessly gleefully, river rapids;
mindless of danger’s pace
relishing only the water’s effervescence on my face.
I also remember first loves and first losses.
I also remember school & studies;
“potential” was still untapped, unknown and
mental acuity (if I’d only known!) and muscular elasticity were greatest and
commencements were midpoints between endings and never-ending beginnings.
It is, it seems to me, ironic that,
with each passing instant,
instantly, successively becoming the oldest I’ve ever been,
I reach back farther, searching, seeing the moments of my earliest days.
As I remember, I wonder what does that say?