After all the rushing, the extremes and the thrills,
After all the ups and downs, declivities and hills,
I’ve shot enough wild rivers, forded my last rill.
I do not mind the still life, that cup that I must fill.
Ghosts need not be ghouls, I’ve found, except at Halloween.
In dreams and poems they visit me, recalling where I’ve been.
Temporary comfort are what they provide at best,
promoting hopeful hunches that death is just a rest.
Does another life exist somewhere beyond the mound,
and will its joys exceed the present comfort that I’ve found?
No past love gives an answer, so I wrap my queries up
and abandon pen and daydreams to stir my brimming cup.
I think I have finally lost it. I woke up this morning, picked up my computer from the headboard shelf in my bed, and found the beginning stanza of this poem. I worked for an hour or more completing it, posted it, then posted it to Facebook, but when I did, I found another poem entitled “At 74,” that had the same illustration and opening line and several comments and likes, but when I tried to open it, it said it was no longer available! It was not in Trash or Drafts on my blog, but people had commented and “Liked” it, so it must have been published. I am totally clueless as to what happened. A case of the entire world having deja vu? The only thing I can think of is that an old version of “At 74” was on my second computer and when I picked it up and finished it, it erased the old version which had been posted on my other computer. And the old version vanished forever. I have no idea what it was, but to all of you that liked and commented on it, thanks for reading. Does anyone remember how it differed from this version, other than by name? Can senility be far behind?
So, the mystery continues.In yesterday’s drafts, Forgottenman found the previously published poem with the same beginning stanza but a different second stanza! I rust republished it, but it went back to a yesterday posting. If you want to see it, HERE it is. To avoid confusion, I changed the photo, which was the same as this one. Ha. How futile is that–trying to avoid confusion at this late date? It must be my fault but I can’t for the life of me figure out how this happened.