Prompt for RWJ, Prompt 304

Now that you’re nearer to the end of life, does it seem like things have come full circle? Or does it seem like it takes a lifetime to untangle the mess that attends to most lives? Or maybe you’ve satisfied your work goals and you’re now looking at other ways of self-fulfilment? I mean, there’s got to be new growth at every stage of life, am I right? Or do you believe in renunciation? Or if not that, then to simplify your lifestyle? You tell me, I’m curious to know. Whatever it is, your life isn’t really settled, or is it? What have you settled and what have you not? Do you feel smug because you’ve got it all figured out? Try to answer this in a poem.


One thought on “Prompt for RWJ, Prompt 304


    The bargains I made with life were games played
    without rules or prior preparation.
    I aimed for what greed dictated, fudged efforts
    to reach goals, trying hard to climb each rung,
    patted myself on the shoulder when I won;
    kicked myself in the rear when I lost.

    Life was a game of seasons. I watched flowers
    grow, bargained with the wind, then sadly
    watched them die in autumn. I marveled
    at the floral cycle of life,
    but never wondered about my own,
    how the flight of time hardened the soft face

    of youth, bent the bones, clouded the mind
    and blurred the advent of my winter.
    Like the drooping rose, I wait the clank
    of shovel, the pings of clumped dirt,
    a new spring, a new life, a circle closed.


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