Severely Deficient

By Jessica Lake

You see the marks upon the wall

That mother made to watch you grow.

You recall how you stretched tall,

The pencil balanced atop just so.

Suddenly, you are a child again.

Your mother’s smile as it was then—

The fine-etched lines at the corners of her eyes.

You feel the pride that flows from her to you;

You smile today to think a younger you yearned for years.

Who commands that "Once is not enough"?

What siren call draws us from here to then—

To rest within the arms of sweet memory?

You are told:

"A life is a walk upon an untouched beach,

And each footfall leaves an imprint in its sand.

And at the dimming of your days,

You may dull the ache of scant tomorrows;

Glance behind—behold the glory of your years."

Yet there are some—I, for one—free of memory's gravity.

Glancing behind, I see the sand unmarred by footfall.

I savor each moment’s twilight,

And at its death—leap to the next.

Friend, feel nothing for me;

I neither mourn nor long for what I never held.