Friday, May 20, 2011


I’d need a better memory than I own
To sum up my accounts of bygone days,
Yet it’s not deeds I’ve done but how I’ve grown,
What I’ve become, that I should now appraise.

The metaphor of taking stock is too
Material; I’m no commodity
For measuring and weighing, so in lieu
Of that, I’ll estimate my quality.

Or, more appropriately, I’ll leave to you
And others who have seen the evidence,
Observing how I live and what I do,
To chasten me or come to my defense.

     How certain can you be that my next choice
     Will cause you to despair or to rejoice?