Friday Nite Poetry: Better Late Than Never

So it is coming up on being the wee hours of Saturday Morning as I write this. It has been a while since I have written off the cuff for you guys, so that is what I will do tonight. I hope you find it enjoyable. If you do, don’t forget I have two books for sale which you can purchase to your right. 😉


Face pressed hard against the glass
and the winter’s cold feels good against my lips.
I wait,
I always wait,
for you to come home.

Four decades,
eight Presidents,
three generations,
and countless milestones,
and I am still that kid
wondering when I will see the car pull up.

I miss feeling that.
I miss wanting it.
What divide has been gouged
between us?
Why can it not be like that

It is not just you,
I know this.
I am pulled from that frosty window
by guilt,
yours and mine,
and I am afraid I’ll never see those headlights again.

That is okay though.
I have others coming home for me,
in a manner of speaking.
I  just wish that someone
could be home for you.


We interrupt this life plan
to set a new agenda
not like I should be surprised
that is the only agenda
not ever keeping to one

I have changed goals
changed aspirations
changed my life’s purpose
the way you change your underwear

Don’t look at me that way
I am an eager eater
sampling from the buffet of life
this dish and that
this career or the other
learning all I can
about whatever I may
because the world is just too big
and fun
not to

I am content
I am overjoyed
to not fit in
with any set pattern
of what life is
to be

Take your plans
they work for you
but I am putting it off
for another day
any other day
or maybe not
maybe right now
because it is all one to me


One thought on “Friday Nite Poetry: Better Late Than Never

  1. It just occurred to me that the title of tonight’s post, while meant to be about waiting until the last minute to write it, turned out to be entirely appropriate to both poems. I am wondering if there was something subconscious going on with that.

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