Half a Life

Before I know it, half the morning’s gone:
paper lies unread, corn flakes turn to slush,
too late for a shower.

Before I know it, half the day is gone:
work piles up from yesterday,
unanswered mail piles up beside
the book I should have read.

Before I know it, half the week is gone:
Tuesday looms on Friday, and then
before I know it, half the month is gone:
seems like I just paid the phone bill
when the next one comes.

Before I know it, half a year is gone:
I stand in line again at Macy’s
trying to remember what
I got from Dave last year.

Before I know it, half my life is gone:
Missed the Louvre and the Grand Canal.
I can hardly speak. Seems like
half a life is just too long to wait.

Healdsburg, 1997

Scott Reid, 1997