To be and now not to be
And sight that seems so clear—
The once timeless burdens, now timely,
So many matters now
That simply do not matter.

Place so familiar, still
Holding me as its own;
People a weft of past and present
And too new strands
To contrast and to blend.

And all warped with the
Composition of that thirty-seven years:
The was,
The still am,
And threshold of a what will be.

12/01/2016

Author's Note: Substitute teaching now at the school where I labored for thirty-seven years as a teacher.

Posted on 12/02/2016
Copyright © 2024 Leonard M Hawkes