Friday Poem

Resolution

This year I'm taking a beat,

catching my breath,

giving it a rest.

This is the year I won’t run a marathon,

or write that novel,

or develop that six-pack,

or get around

to all those abandoned projects.

This is the year I won't make amends

for unreturned calls

and unanswered letters,

or apologize to friends

for whatever I said

before I knew better.

This is the year I won't be the talk of the town.

Hearsay, gossip, scandal, rumor

are too much work,

and I’m too tired for an affair.

I’ve missed my chance to die young,

so this is the year I won’t make plans

for what I’ll become

when I’m done being what I am.

I'm dialing it down,

rolling it back, leaving it there.

If not this year, next.