Thirty-Nine
Thirty-Nine
Born at
thirty-seven
At the smack end,Right before the resignation,
Before the national shame:
Suckling, utterly dependent.
Just then came thirty-eight,
Rebuilding us,
Claiming reconciliation.
Nursing and still a toddler:
Bright-eyed, boisterously upright.
Three: my
first thirty-nine,
Polyestered,Pleading naïveté, malaise.
Training-wheeled and water-winged:
Commanding youth-infused mettle.
Born
again at forty,
ContagiouslyOptimistic: unabated
Words and dreams and pride and words:
Growing strong in adolescence.
Forty-one: points from light,
Warring, winning
Against cold, victory in right.
Ideals: justice in action:
Making heroes, making meaning.
First yea
at forty-two,
Navigating Nuance, irony: "is" isn't,
Staging bully charisma:
Building metaphors from biceps.
To adulthood,
Behind the veneers of success,
No longer just my: our best:
Breaking rules and hearts, party lines.
And here I am:
Thirty-nine at forty-four,
Steeped in hope and caution,
Watching the world spin
Around me--us--
Catching my breath,
Holding fast,
Counting back and ahead,
Wondering when comes
Convergence:
Forties--forty-five, perhaps--
Fifties? Likely not.
Or if all the chances here have past:
Remembering
forward,
Toward our rebirthOr is it fancy renaissance,
Or a different beginning?
Or are such histories the only
Future there is left?
At this precipice--
At thirty-nine:
Now, still, again.
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