Richard Pierce


Oscar’s birthday poem, 2012

. . .

Calm here,

And across the ocean a storm.

I am guessing that you

Will take a cursory glance
At these words,
Raise an eyebrow, cough, and move on,
And squirrel away my emotions
Somewhere out of sight and memory
Until an accident uncovers their dust.

You are so old now,

So above it all,
Intellectually immortal
And unbeatable, and
I pray it will always be so.

To you, I will always be ancient

And inferior and boring,
A collaborator with the system
You despise.
Maybe that’s what we all become
No excuses – when we age.
I hope you don’t.
I know you won’t.
But care.

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