The Time Spends Like Water
This is a poem written after a brief but meaningful conversation in the lobby lounge. I never asked the gentleman’s name, it seemed silly after discussing important life conclusions; regressive somehow. It would have been like asking for steak sauce at Mason Street Grill.
My wife and I were able
to travel the world.
All those years
my colleagues
missed t-ball games,
and watched sunsets
through office window blinds.
We were in our 30’s, then our 40’s
– just starting out
and I urged them not to wait til 65, or 70
while we visited Australia, New Zealand,
South America, Europe several times,
we always loved Europe.
Last year we took a road trip
around the U.S.
That was pretty tough.
Not at all
like our other trips.
My wife, she’s…
My wife is not well now
and when one of you isn’t well
neither of you feels well.
The travel is hard now.
My colleagues, I talk to them,
-good people mind you,
but we’re old.
They’ve planned their retirement
and their grandchildren will inherit
college educations
But the difference
is that some of us
went to see the world
when we could
and some of us didn’t.
All that money doesn’t mean anything, now.
Even to an accountant.
You’re young. You’ll know someday
what I’m talking about.
You never believe
at your age
that you’ll get to be my age.
It starts with your friends.
You suddenly wonder,
“When did they all get so old?”
Oh, I remember that grin. It’s a beautiful thing.
At your age
I was convinced
I’d never have gray hair
or wear a hearing aid.
But the time spends like water my friend
and you’ll never think you’re old
until one day you are.
Well, best of luck to you young man.
I believe I’ll finish this Manhattan
Bartender, may I settle my tab,
and see how this city looks
from the 23rd floor.