Nostalgia

Some days, I get nostalgic
about my mistakes.

Why did I buy whole milk instead of one-percent?
Why did I stuff my mouth with that last pizza slice?

That year I was a starving artist
too poor to purchase art supplies.

That decade I lived in Chicago
and never sat in the bleachers of a Cubs or Sox game.

This whole life spent waiting
and simultaneously wondering—waiting for what?


copyright © 2018 Kenneth P. Gurney

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