Awareness

Tuesday of this last week I went to an estate sale;
I had to drag myself, for I was feeling pretty weak.
There were a lot of folks, the property quite fancy;
the day was warm and bright, there were tables on the lawn.
Mindful I tried to be of time‘s relentless ticking,
the pleasure and the joy, and when it often hurts.

I looked around at all the affluence;
the auctioneer began the event.
I sat next to an old wizened man,
he said he drove down from Loraine
to visit and to see what he could buy.
And when he mentioned the deceased,
by name, I realized quite suddenly
it was someone that I had known.
And so, I had a revelation--
it was a person from my past.
It then became a red alert,
a bit of keen remembering,
a nova in the night.
In my chair, all at once, I felt aware.

He looked at me and grinned, his face was hard and wrinkled;
he doffed his Bowler hat and he let go a little sigh.
Women in the front row were holding crystal vases;
the auctioneer spoke loud amid the murmur of the crowd.
The old man seemed to know by reading my expression;
he showed respect for me without uttering a word.

Among the need for mere possessions,
within the race we humans run,
there is a warmness called respect
that wraps around the heart quite tenderly
as if it had silk hands.
It supplants the arrogance and mean
that run amok like demon spawn
and adds elan to life.
So I turned to my new friend--
I noticed moisture in his eye.
And as the auctioneer went on
the people bid on property
including fancy cars.
In my chair, all at once, I felt aware.


40 Lines
Shadows and Light Poetry Contest