Gee I guess
That the only
Time that you
Miss the thing
That you’re missing
Is when someone
Fills it then
And only then
Will you realize
That all the
Things that you’ve
Been looking for
Didn’t really matter
But the simple
Things that you
Did really did
Sometimes in life
We get used
To where we
Are so used
To in fact
That those sweet
Summer breezes and
Wet grass tickles
Turn normal until
Oh they’re gone
And then we
Miss them with
A full orchestra
Of heart ache
Instead perhaps we
Should ask another
What they see
And accept that
Those norm things
We have indeed
Are the treasures
That others seek
Once again enjoying
Each other’s sweet
Summer breezes and
Wet tickling kisses
What would life
Look like if
We trusted the
Unknown instead of
Filling the known
With things now
We tend to
Anticipate tomorrow as
Though we’re attending
Our own party
Expecting requested gifts
But isn’t tomorrow
A surprise party
We can choose
To either be
Giddy with glee
Or sadly disappointed
We can celebrate
Genuine affection or
Selfishly stack our
Deck assuring satisfaction
I urge you
To live today
And trust tomorrow
Not as certainty
But as an
Unexpected surprise because
It really is
The sky is
Marbled this morning
Like a fatty
Steak or Piazza
Flooring streaked with
White showing age
Large god like
Foot prints dig
Heavily into its
Blanket of grayness
Like lumbering giants
Wobbling home from
The bar morning
Sun is only
Seen through slits
Like a lone
Lamp through blinds
I think while
Sipping black coffee
Watching steam rise
Off the pond
Like waiting locomotives
Autumn has arrived
In the south
Bringing crispness like
That very first
Very sweet crack
Of an apple
At my age
You learn your
Place in history
You realize that
It’s not forever
It’s for now
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 