I stand into the brisk wind,
and what usually invigorates me,
now sends shivers down my spine.
I suddenly feel as if my life
is being blown past me,
and nothing is as it used to be.
Or, better I should say,
Nothing is as I thought
it would be.
They are not just lost moments,
but lost days that turned into weeks,
then months and surely years.
Could I have missed
so many opportunities?
Or made so many bad decisions?
Trying to do the right thing,
or the appropriate thing, or
the thing that pleased others . . .
Did I miss my chances
to do my own things,
that would’ve made me more happy?
Where did it all go?
What could I have done or been?
Did I let life pass me by, just the living of it?
Do I have excuses for all those things?
Or at least rationalizations for the undone?
Or the glorious might have-beens?
Or was it simply,
That I could have been foolish,
More often and just let life happen?
Alice Parker © 2001