The Present


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The Present

 

The present is such a lovely place

that sparrows fly through it

and sunlight shines into it, day after day,

folk hymns are sung in it, out

in Nebraska two children

toss a softball back and forth;

sighing, a lovely young woman

lies back in the present with her thighs apart,

adoring her lover,

men lean from

open car windows; they watch

the present go by

their lives, other lives, and they think

of swimming in April.

Into the present

comes a quietness. The stars

begin to replenish;

it’s a summer evening on the planet Earth,

fireflies jounce in the darkness,

crickets, tree frogs. You never

knew such contentment.

Strolling, thoughts to yourself,

you feel the present is a valley, a refuge,

a compromise

between past and future,

and toss a stone at the river,

race your own life to your door.

 

-Dick Allen

Categories: Poems & PhotosTags: , , , , , , , , , ,

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