Looking Back

My neighbor is celebrating a birthday
He’s an adult
Still searching to find his way
Through the hustle and bustle
Of maturity
I found it hard to believe that I am
Two years past
Twice his age
Since I’m trying to find
My way
Through the same stuff
Maybe it just happens that way
Where we realize that the important stuff
Really has little standing in the realm of
Fast cars, big houses, boats
What’s the need
Nine to five or longer
Does the toil matter
Perhaps my young neighbor has figured it out
Staving off a direction as long as possible
Living his terms
Walking his dog
Hanging between winter and summer residences
And only moving when the flakes
Fall or stop
But then I look back
With my doubling life years
Knowing the comfort of settling down,
The consistency of a schedule,
And the freedom tenure brings
Happy birthday, young man
I’m quite peaceful
In my semi-advanced stage

1 Comment

  1. This just supports the fact that age and years of age are two different things. I don’t feel near as old as my years on earth would dictate. It is a frame of mind. My best friend here was born one month after I graduated from high school. The only time age even comes up is when he is seeking “sage advice” because I have been down that road before. BTW. What is the status of your book?

    Sent from my iPad


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