Our Own Now

It is left to time and chance

this risk of memory and loss.

I doff my cap to my own history

while learning presence in present tense.

Swept along the brisk and roiling

river of time, we can watch ourselves

on the shores of our own lives

wishing we were on the other side

or maybe in the water,

going the other direction.

Maybe it’s just good to stand

and look for awhile.

This much I know,

at least I see the river if only this once

and listen to it move

while I laugh a little on

this still ground.