One Moment in Time

Most older people jump ship as it reaches shore.
I find the shore receding as I look for more
of what were crowded social groups of yore;
or even what was formerly a music store.
Cherise who once perceived it as a privilege to explore
the opera repertoire now sees it as a bore
whose auditory retort is a strident snore.
Embarked in restaurants that once moved me to the core,
coarse sailors have replaced my female stevedore,
unbundling memories while thundering like Thor.
The way Life’s skipper navigates is just bizarre.
Dispatches meant to humor girls like Elinor
and Evelyn, lie stranded in my bedroom drawer
when those gals scooted to enjoy Lake Elsinore.
My writing exercises augur no Tagore,
and gone are slams for poets that once heard me soar
above enthusiastic crowds who used to roar
with approbation. Language groups, where once I’d score
with some well-versed collegiate chick from Singapore,
have sailed away into the realm of Meetup lore.
I mourn those paradigms of strapping youth, grown hoar,
who once had functioned as some stripling’s guarantor?
Our social workers with their altruistic chores
are soon displaced by narcissistic omnivores.
And heretofore, well-heeled employers can’t afford
the pittance they once paid me when I manned their floor.
And I myself who, when much younger, proudly wore
my youth with peerless pride, like some Prince Charming or
one called-for, walk like someone that the gods foreswore.
…

This article was posted on Sunday, December 31st, 2023 at 8:02am and is filed under Poetry.