~
I hear the birdsong,
thrilling.
I see the young girls,
thrilling.
And still! I was just
as willing.
All of that
was yesteryear.
There’s no sense
regretting;
there’s nothing
besetting;
the here and the now,
where we live.
Forget it. It’s gone.
Not here.
Yet,
I watched it slowly
slipping,
I saw it lose
it’s gripping.
Each day,
as it went,
it went tripping.
Every hour,
evermore,
it was slipping.
And all that there was
is not here.
There’s no sense
regretting,
no sense
resenting,
there’s no sense in riffing
yesteryear.
So…
so long,
to all of that
way back there.
We’ll go on from here,
and just keep forgetting
all of that
that was from
yesteryear.
©2013, Marvin Loyd Welborn
Kind of reminds me of Poe’s “The Raven,” only not as dark. Live in the present but remember the past as well, perhaps?