The horizon of what use to be...

Author's note: Whether it's the years or illness, I don't know. But, I find myself recalling brief moments long past - moments of no great significance - moments more simple than profound. Moments marked by things like the look of the sky, the feel of the air, the fragrance of the trees, or the feeling of vastness looking out across the desert. I can almost recall the sights, the sounds, the feeling. Almost, but not quite. And I am saddened, for each time those moments come, their stay is shorter and their clarity less. I fear that soon they will be lost forever.

* * * 

The horizon of what use to be...
 by Joseph Weilenbeck

The moments dance
before my eyes
then teasing,
run and hide where I can't see.
So, I search
and when I find
that very spot,
I look behind.
But all that I see hiding there is me.

No moments to treasure.
No moments of pleasure.
No moments lived, to be lived again.
Just the last half of a memory,
of a time and place that use to be,
on a road that cannot lead from now to then.

So, I wait in silence
patiently
for the if and when
of another one to pass.
I hold my net
and when it's time,
I take a swing
but all I find
is a prayer to God that it won't be my last.

No treasure to catch.
No pleasure to match
those moments real that now in shadows hide.
Just the taillights of a memory
on the horizon of what use to be
fading into darkness on the other side. 

Joseph Weilenbeck  2018