Reckless in Retrospect
I’d love to be spontaneous, spur-of-the moment, rash—
to burn my candle at both ends, right down to the ash.
Impulsive and incautious, impetuous and careless.
Have hair-raising adventures up to the time I’m hairless.
But I was born of parents both dependable and prudent.
I was a cautious driver and a conscientious student.
I planned my life out to a “T,” kept calendars and planners.
I wore my skirts down to my knees and always watched my manners.
If perfect is as perfect does, by now I’d be a saint.
The only problem is, in spite of all of this, I ain’t!!!
I might as well have had some fun and risked a wrong decision.
For after all of this, I’ve found there’s scant fun in precision.
The prompt word still unpublished when I wrote my prompt poem this morning was spontaneous. Here it is, in a poem all its own.