Words grow cold
Time sits in the mirror
And when you look
Years stare
What happened, you ask?
When did I leave the race?
A tear, a shiver,
All from the cracking place.
Frozen in October heat
Bones and all
A wish for chicken soup,
Vegetable broth,
Whatever can warm inside.
How did you arrive here?
The dreams turned to ashes
The colleagues—way ahead—
Some dead.
What’s left: mundane.
Suddenly you fall
On your knees
And give thanks that your knuckles
Still rattle with life
There is a voice inside you,
There is a constant friend.
You’ve had a good job
A decent vacation
You have a phone, an email address, a computer
Above all you have a story
Miles to go and there will be listeners
You’ve lived you.
Half through the life you’ve gambled,
You’ve changed, you’ve adapted
Life has beaten you to shape,
You’ve not quit.
Giving thanks you
Call up that friend to say:
Are you holding on—friend?
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