I suspect that

after a certain age

most of us have

survivor’s guilt —

revived  from time to time

by television’s constant

showing us so many victims

scattered ‘round the world —

or word of tragedies nearby

in the local press.

Even word of mouth

sometimes provides the news

that makes us gasp.


Counting many birthdays

we’re apt to think

that we’ve escaped

knowing well

that others

more deserving than ourselves

are recipients of  unearned horrors

that our imaginations cannot grasp.


To make each day count

while coping with

the dynamics of our own aging

is the best that we can do —

and we may wonder why

we’re still around our space

‘til we’re not capable of wondering.

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