All That Remains

Reflections on the seasons of my lifetime.

All That Remains

a poem by William Wilder

December 7, 2019

Youth spent exploring, learning, lusting, loving, leaving,

Thinking love was like buses.

If you miss yours, another will be along soon.

Then dancing away the days, weeks, months, years,

Tasting life, window shopping, never buying,

Keeping my options open, savoring possibility.

Now facing life’s final phase, 

All that remains is to see

How shall I do this last precious piece,

All of my desires, dreams, plans and prayers notwithstanding...

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Interesting piece here. A man who has apparently lived life to the fullest, never looking back, now perceives the end of the road is something real. I can't tell if an illness is the precipitating factor, or whether the years in their accumulation have apprised him of his finitude. I don't detect anger here, only regrets that the show is closing. The language is different, but there is the flavor of Ecclesiastes in this one.

[william wilder]

Thank you for your comments John