My Biggest Worry
—The good not done, the love not given, time
torn off unused— Philip Larkin, “Aubade”
My apologies to time for all the world I overlooked each second.
Wislawa Szymborska, “Under One Small Star”
What do I most fear?
It used to be death,
not because I was afraid
of dying, but when my children
were young, and I wanted
to show them the world.
Now, I’ve lived enough
to know with shattering clarity
things as they are today
will not always be.
I want to soak it all in,
every moment
of my precious life.
My husband’s sweet face
as we sit talking at the table,
my children when they tell me
their secrets, my mother’s fine hair
pulled into a tiny golden ponytail.
I remember. I am present
for a few minutes.
I forget. I remind myself again.
So, I’d say it’s a worry
of regretting someday
that I didn’t appreciate
or notice enough—
a person, a moment, a place,
anything really,
as much as I should or could have
at this very moment in time.
This is a beautiful poem, Carolyn. Images nicely stringed into words. ❤
ReplyDelete