I
was never very young,
But
that doesn’t mean
I
was never naïve.
I
was foolish enough to think
My
thinking was sound
Though
in reality
It
was simply prideful pomp.
My
high school photo
Showed
my banker’s stare,
It
saved me much trouble,
No
miniskirted girls
Looking
for a good time
Ever
passed me notes.
My
youth
Was
my chance
To
make mini mistakes
With
only small penalties to pay.
If
I had been bolder,
My
adventures would have been grander.
The
costs would have been steeper.
I
seek no second youth,
No
chance to do it again,
To
decide between mini and grand.
For
me, living without lament
Is
a satisfying grace.
Watercolor by Pat Morgan
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