Ravensong Poetry And Writing Blog by Donovan Baldwin

By Donovan Baldwin

I miss the day which saunters by so casually upon its way
To all the calm amusements which will fill its time.

We eye each other warily if perhaps we pass as I
Go about my missions, toils, and tasks.

I used to know him well in younger days
With far reduced responsibilities, but now
He's gone the way of gods and I've grown up,
Down to the level of each man's daily life.

Each morning he rises, putting on
The vestments he has chosen, and, calling to him
The flying, feathered finery which will announce
His measured entrance on the scene, and,
Accompany him through the waking hours and discuss
His actions with occasional loud altercations
And whispered disputation
When the world has returned to night.

As he comes on some Spring mornings, he gradually
Removes the blanket of rejuvenating mist and dew
Which was laid upon the Earth that it
Might sleep more soundly.

Oh, the smells that softly ride the air, and
Bring me back to days which happened
Forty years or more ago,
When each morning I could watch the coming of the day
Learning lessons then on how to live
With the wide-eyed wisdom of a child
Which the man who's learned to live with life
Has long forgotten.

I miss the day.

For every time we pass each other by,
Stealing a stranger's glance,
Each of us at the other,
I am again surprised to discover
We've forgotten almost all we knew about each other.
But, sometimes, for just a moment
A dim light of memory flickers in his eyes
Quickly dying as he tries, but, fails,
To recognize his one time friend.

Yes, I miss the day I used to know so well,
Who now hurries by with no time for me,
Or me for him.

Labels: donovan baldwin, old friends, poem, poem about day, poem by Donovan Baldwin, poetry, sunrise, the day