Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Wednesday, April 04, 2012

PAD Challenge #3: Apology

For every moment I have faltered,
or chosen to run away, it comes to this,
that moment I must humble myself.
No reason or rationale or flimsy excuse
separates me from that awful reality, the knowing
our days are numbered and 
intentions are simply not enough.

So I will revel in each of these numbered days, 
these loves, and this constructed reality.

I have lived long and well. When that last night comes,

I will go gently.

Robert Lee Brewer's prompt today for National Poetry Month (PAD poem a day) was to write an apology poem . . . or to write an unapologetic poem. This morning, facing down two April challenges, my thoughts turned to limits that we all face, and one at least I don't think of often, but this last month has been full of death.

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful poem, Beth. I'm not sure how I will go. My parents certainly are not going quietly. One is 98 and the other 93 and they claw and fight for every breath. I think they belong to the "Every day above dirt is a good day" group. ;-)