Afternoons Slip By

Afternoons Slip By

(“Lord, make me aware of my end and the number of my days so that I will know how short-lived I am.” Psalm 39:4)

I looked behind me to see how crooked
the line had become. I think I waited for
perfection
to creep up on me.
I may have let the days pass too innocently,
and the words I spoke so incoherently
as I tried to explain the reason I would not
walk in the rain.
I don’t regret a single conversation I had that
led to no conclusions at all. I would have more if
I could find someone to talk to.
We incubated words and hoped they would hatch
into new ideas about how to spend the day.

I might open my eyes underwater, I might
reach for the sky and capture a cloud. But I wish
I had called you more often, that I had made a list
of all the silly jokes we would tell over the years.
I might try the phone number I’ve known since childhood
but I’m convinced that number has grown extinct.

Afternoons alone slip by so slowly while
the years I remember zoom by like supersonic spies.
Time draws lines like fences broken by the rain.
I bring to mind underfunded misfortune and laugh
under my breath
at the thought of it all.

Will you meet me for a beer before it becomes so
late that I’ve forgotten your name?