Читать книгу Intrusive Beauty - Joseph J. Capista - Страница 17
ОглавлениеThirtysomething Blues
Shannon
It’s not the risk we mind, but consequence.
To do without at twenty-two was “in.”
Yet now we’ve had, to have not stings. We wince
at what, in younger days, we sought: the chance
of sloughing all we never meant to own.
It’s not the risk we mind, but consequence.
The job, car loan, the mortgage on the house:
the things we need are things, not dreams but plans.
How once we’ve had, to have not stings. We wince
at possibility should it yield less,
no lamb and cherries, nightly glass of wine.
It’s not the risk, mind you, it’s consequence.
We’ll quit! We’ll walk! We’ll move to France!
Responsible adults know my refrain:
Yes, once you’ve had, to have not stings. I wince
mid-concert when you say, “I’ll sing like this
someday.” Those notes won’t pay the taxman, Shan.
It’s not the risks we mind, but consequences,
as once we’ve had—we wince—to have not stings.
