After Reading the Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

If, like Prufrock,  my life has been measured out
in coffee spoons, I am blessed that they were
heaping high and rounded and while I have had
more than my share of ‘what-is-its’, there have
been a few noted visitations that held me high
on seaward waves.

Memories of clear and sunny days and flashbacks
to times I thought that I was drowning, all surface now
in pleasantly calm seas.  Though weather is never
to be relied on, there have been dear friends
as steady as my youthful hands were, treasures
that I never take for granted.

One giant step past midway gives an ample view
of where one’s been and a map of where one’s going,
The journey stretching on before and then it’s Spring.
Summer coming on and too soon gone, then Autumn,
time of harvest; I would linger there. Alas it’s January.
Even so, tulips bloom beneath the snow.

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