Late Awakening

Late Awakening

If I knew when it happened, I would tell you
Because it’s something you would want to know.
I think it was when my sandy brown
Whitened to its unruly crop,
And my cheek crevices deepened
And grew coarse.

Maybe I was too preoccupied
Watching clocks and calendars,
Slumping through conferences
And grinning for group photos.
Where was I when you listened
And started taking me seriously?
I thought I had to be much older to matter.

I don’t remember when my words got heavy.
I wasn’t paying attention
When my opinions made a difference.
I was so used to wading into the fray
Firing my word rounds,
The bigger, the better;
The more inflammatory, the more I liked it.

Now you tell me that I am a mentor, a nurturer.

I wish I had known.

I didn’t realize our conversations

Were much more than they had always been.

It alarms me to think that my private musings

Were actually changing lives.

That arrogant teenager was just here
A moment ago.
Now, he’s gone
He must have taken
His fun and games with him.
He left me this heavy furniture.
I have no idea what to do with it.
Too bad my dad’s not here.
He would know.