Thirty-Nine

A self-reflective little birthday poem, two months late.

Thirty-Nine

I went golfing down south,
Glamping near the Great Wall.
Life was meant to be this way?
Good luck convincing me
At 29, living on the computer,
Knowing little of what’s real.
At 19 I tried staying in multiple presents,
Dabbling in what might lead to something.
At 9 I thought growing up was scary.
What did I know?
                        What do I know?
Every August it’s like this, counting
Down the time until some checkpoint.
And after all the wishes, old friends
Sending hi because they were online,
We count up again, like renewal
Or a reset,
Living without stress, recharged enough
To hope for whatever’s next,
As if that’s now all that hope is.
            There’s more to discover,
That’s what I care about
In this final year of my third decade,
A next leading to a next…
Married life? breaking 79?

Logroño, October 2