“On Contemplating the Future”


“On Contemplating the Future”

There is no Future; there is only Now.
The Past is but a memory of flings;
my days have flown with many hopeful vows,
but Now is all that’s left among my things.

The locket that he gave has turned to rust;
the promise ring, a momentary pearl.
And each forgotten love has turned to dust;
winds somber-gray my silken, lovely curls.

I grab my current cup, gulp greedily;
see brimming bubbles winking at its edge.
I drink its dredges; bottom of its sea
for life is but a moment and a pledge.

The future’s only held within my eye;
imagined worlds that may come, by and by.

(Day 10, April PAD, Writer’s Digest, write ‘future’ poem)

 

 

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Rantings Of A Third Kind

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