May 19, 2022

The Shrug

n memoriam for Nicholas Johnson

I am the final thing,
A man learning to sing. Theodore Roethke

Time was never your friend, always
faster in getting to the same places,
always rude to your limps and hitches.
What’s the hurry, you’d say? Rushing results
in rumpling – clothes, expectations, moods.
Let’s stop for a drink. It’s what bars are for.

I see how modesty dissuaded you
from grand entrances, how you got used
to shrug at showing up after the rose
bloomed, how you learned to settle for petals –
faded, limp, weary from being handled
and sniffed at by less clever people who’d say,
You’re too late. Quietly, raising a slow eyebrow, you’d think,
Nonsense!, there’s more time than we can ever use.