Craig Kirchner

In Time
 
I wrote a poem ‘Next’ - I am still running,
I’ve been running all my life--
and had an epiphany.
 
I’m 76, if I have any sense at all
I will slow down, savor, not hurt myself.
I started with what I knew best,
I stopped rushing through showers,
this was easy, being beat on by hot water
is one of life’s great pleasures.
 
I started applying this basic premise
to my whole routine, slowed everything down
deliberately. You would think things
would take longer – not true, it was
as though the clock slowed
and the days become longer.
 
I made the bed when Dee wasn’t looking,
ever so carefully, palming out wrinkles,
fluffing the pillows, making every edge perfect
with the calmest of intent. It was therapeutic,
especially since in fifty years of marriage,
I had never made the bed.
 
And now, instead of scribbling,
balling up wads of unhappy words
and getting nowhere fast, I’m slowly typing,
softly caressing the keys, one finger,
one at a time. The keyboard is responding
as those this new demeanor could be fruitful.
 
I’m going to send this to the publisher who told me
I had ADHD, that I should set it aside for a day,
come back with a fresh outlook. Well, it’s day two
and I’m snail-mailing, licking the cheap envelope,
cautiously recalling Costanza’s fiancé, Susan,
and a tortoise-like death by calmly lapping glue.

Craig Kirchner is the author of Room Full of Navels. He thinks of poetry as hobo art, loves the aesthetics of the paper and pen, and has had poems nominated for the Pushcart. After a hiatus he was recently published in Decadent Review, Hamilton Stone Review, Wise Owl, Chiron Review, Dark Winter, Spillwords, Fairfield Scribe, Young Ravens, Unlikely Stories, The Main Street Rag and about eight dozen others. He recently had a poem nominated for the Pushcart 2024 by Choeofpleirn Press.