Accepting Change

I was out late a few nights ago. No, I wasn't partying ... well, it was a party of sorts ... I was sitting in with a poetry group ... a small group which meets fairly regularly to celebrate poetry.

And celebrate it is!

We all enjoy poetry. We sit in a small circle, share our most recent discoveries, pass around copies, discuss each offering briefly ... simply savoring some ... trying to unravel the mysteries of others.

And ... after nibbling on a slice of raisin bread ... fresh and piping hot from the oven ... well, yes, it was a party.

All the way home, then, the words of the evening kept coming back, singing to me and Phyllis. It almost seemed that The Little Red Car was humming along, too.

So I was out late. Not too late, mind you. It was afterward ... when I sat down at the keyboard, that time really slipped away from me.

As a result of that, there I was the next morning ... lost ... well, not completely lost, but still bumping into things in the morning fog. Sleep deprived, I believe it's called.

I had hoped to enumerate some of the changes I've accepted ... even welcomed, in some instances ... along the way ... and some of those which I'm still resisting. I'm sure there have been many of each.

But I think I'd better wait until I'm fully awake ... like, maybe in another day or two.

Meanwhile, the poem:

ACCEPTING CHANGE

I'm not always
a willing partner,
but I must go
with the times,
leaving a trail
of scuff marks
where I've been
dragged along.
© 1998
(originally published in Capper's)

Today's word: change