A long life (or even a short one) is just a string of moments and we lose sight of the now moment.

This Moment Now

Old friends don’t seem as old
as they used to
It has to do with porch swings
and beat-up trucks,
lemonade in afternoons
and swatting flies
when generations lived in the same town,
which doesn’t happen much
any more
We’re far too eagerly caught up for that
in building computer-links
to the new branch in London

That may sound like a complaint and isn’t,
so get off my back
Could be taken for a longing after simpler times
and might be
But perish the thought of being in that crowd
and caught out of date
It’s just a statement, but the tug is there
They’re gone to other things and places
and it’s heady stuff, this moving
always upward, a sense of focus
before we had the chance
to call ourselves old friends

And that’s just as well, it could get tiresome
sipping lemonade
A life of knowing who’s car’s coming
down the road to turn in here
And when you pretty well knew that Tuesdays
you’d see Bob and Joanne
Recognizing Sunday from no mail, late sleep
and chicken baking
First thing you know it might get comfortable
in a life like that
And Cancun would seem a strange place
to go in winter

But life’s divided itself these days
into then and now and maybe
Then’s been gone a while and now gets lost
in years of maybe
The plans and dreams, the thrill of moving on,
as the future buries now
And strange things happen from time to time
on the sixteenth-hole
Looking for a lost ball, people have been known
to sit down and weep
Wondering suddenly where old friends have gone
in this moment now

Poetry Collection: Broken Pieces
This poem is included in
Jim Freeman’s
poetry collection
available here in print
or as an e-Book
in your favorite formats.