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Eudora Welty

Thursday, June 1, 2017

The fleeting things

The fleeting things of
 © Marie-Lan Nguyen / Wikimedia Commons

this world
are its beauty,
a flower, a sunny day
a shared moment
between friends

A young boy or girl
with little time
to be young
a late snow
in the early spring

That time
my mother smiled
at me
for no reason
‘cept we were beings
meeting for the first time
in this world

That time
I realized
my old man
wasn’t as dumb
as he seemed

Unexpectedly meeting
on a rare visit
to an out of the way
place
at a late hour, her

That brief eternity
when all was right
with the world
and God was a real
presence
to a small boy

Leaves
caught in the act
of mock creation
as they
fly in full
to shape the world

That almost bond
created
by shared insights
with someone
who feels the same

The poem
that comes
and writes itself
and changes for a
moment
a life

And life
most fleeting perhaps

And life
the very shape perhaps
of the question

And life
perhaps
the very answer.

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