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RICH VEINS

by W. Mahlon Purdin

It's been going on for decades:
A decade of childhood sadness,
A decade of disaster and war,
A decade of greed and marriage,
A decade of building and destruction,
A decade of slowing and sorrow,
A decade of waiting for tomorrow.

Remembering it all is a burden and a hazy benefit.
The strangest lessons seep and bleed out
At the oddest times.
Always too late of course, like
A tortuous mentor who reminds you
Of mistakes you just made again, or
A navigator who says,
Hey, that was our turn.

There were moments that I wish I could
Live over and over.
There were moments I wish I could
Forget; more like obliterate.
But the good ones fade and the bad ones bloom.
We get no choice in our history.
What is written is written by a cold hand
We do not command.

Each day is a daunting stress factory
From up 'till down. Things work out,
It's true. But still, one goes through
Not over like a soaring eagle thrown
Or under like a lowly worm.
We may wish one of those,
But beating hearts propel us,
Like hot blood through rich veins.

11/15/2011

Posted on 04/30/2013
Copyright © 2026 W. Mahlon Purdin

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