I was thirteen.
I was fourteen, fifteen and other numbers as well.
I wanted to live them out of sequence.
An unwritten rule prevented that.
Every human face I have ever known
wears several ages simultaneously.
I am sure you have noted this phenomenon
and wished your eyes sparkled like when you were ten.
Some dates within the calendar of my years
are larger than other dates and my mind returns to them regularly.
I have laid in bed thinking about some of those
mostly because those dates demanded it.
Last night I reviewed sitting low among the rocks
high up above the clouds on the Spanish Peaks
and calming the dogs as a thunderstorm arced lightning
across the tops of the clouds a hundred feet below us.
That was thirty years ago, but the ozone
smells as fresh as if the percussions rumbled through me now.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney
Umflop 