Slow

BRUCE MCBIRNEY

It happens quickly every Friday night.
The deepest feelings, the profound events
Of thirty years are gathered up in light
Upon a movie screen. Life so intense.

In half an hour he found his life’s great passion,
In fifty minutes bedded her, and then
He lost her, but in life-affirming fashion
Won her and true self-knowledge by the end.

New every week! But, here, our clock is creeping.
Our problems seem like those that last year gave.
Self-knowledge only comes to us while sleeping,
In dreams where we’re less troubled, younger, brave.

Self-knowledge? Here, love, just clasp hands; we’ll go
Some steps each day. Uncertain. Patient. Slow.


Bruce McBirney lives in La Crescenta, California. His poems have appeared in America, Spillway, The Formalist, The Lyric, and Sonnets: 150 Contemporary Sonnets, among others.

First published in Measure, Volume 2 (2007)