the sound of the car
driving by at 1:00 am
on a now quiet street
is a reminder
of all the things
I said I was going to do
but still haven’t done
some opportunites are gone
I mentally lay a single red rose
for each one
and bid it adieu
I say it’s okay to lower
the coffin
whille I watch what
never occurred
mostly without regret
be buried six feet under
so many opportunities will arrive
each morning
showing up on my front porch
like the monthly visit from
a pair of Jehovah’s Witnesses
with over eager smiles
and a pamphlet they try to leave me
hoping to convince me
to see their way
One thing is certain
I can always count on
endless opportunites
and impermanence
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