by David Rheins

Created on: May 20, 2007

Midlife Reflections Midday on a June Road

It is midpoint between day and night
In the still quietude of June afternoon
Two seasons have passed
Two seasons to go
And so, while the cicadas pulse in the cornfields surrounding me,
I pause to take stock. Tie my shoes. Pull up my socks.
Dust off my shoulders and slap my hat.
I'll not tarry too long before I hit the road again
And this moment is lost to all but these chicken scratches

But for now, I smell the air
And realize that this is all there is
All there ever was or is likely to be
Life
Happening now in a theater near you
In a cubicle, carport, lunch counter, truck stop
There.
If you take a long, slow breath
Hold it in
And squint till you can't see but a faint shadow through your eye lashes
There, you just might see it
For yourself

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