A rolling stone gathers
No moss but does
Break hearts an open
Door is different than
A key intimacy is
Dull but unlocks everything
Else sex is always
An expression of something
Else the only truth
Worth telling is the
One to yourself never
Do your best for
Anyone ever but you
Like a book finally
Written my story told
I sit and wait
To be read knowing
That I’m chock full
Of adventures if only
Someone wishes to go
On them with me
I’m at that point
Of not knowing anymore
Different when I was
A child for then
I wondered but now
I know I don’t
Like being cast overboard
Able to swim but
For how long and
For what purpose really
Before oh long before
I knew what I
Wanted wanted to be
But now that I’ve
Become something how do
I say I’m done
Like the casserole reminding
The cook it’s time
To take me out
And enjoy me now
Why is it that
When you’re looking for
Something you tend to
Find everything else but
Not the oh that’s
Where that thing is
But rather yeah I
Definitely don’t want that
It’s as though someone
Said just try this
Knowing that it’s not
Going to taste or
Feel anything as promised
When young I believed
That I was chalk
Creating and discovering newness
At middle age I
Learned that I was
Erasers wiping away unnecessary
Ideas making room for
More upon retiring I
Discovered that I was
The blackboard upon which
Ideas dreams were written
And finally now I
Understand that I am
Just a classroom in
Which the lessons of
Life have been learned
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 