Half-Life

Here I am,

half way through

(if I live to be a hundred)

and what have I accomplished?

Not a lot…

a half-time job that

I only half hate,

a half-assed attempt

at a novel and a poetry book,

half a dozen children

and a husband who’s  

a half-wit,

but

gives me a full measure

of loving.

Meh…not half bad.

Alrighty then, over in the Imaginary Garedn Karin prompted us to write a poem that somehow used the word or concept of “half.”  Sorry, I was only half serious about this one. ;-)

In the interest of whatever interest there might be, I have taken some poetic license  in the above poem to incorporate the term “half,” i.e. I have two children, not six and my husband really isn’t really a half-wit.

The Art and Science of Desire

     Image: medanth.wikispaces.com

It seems my want

has a half-life.

No matter

how long you are gone

there is still

some longing left.

And with even

the smallest bit

I can reconstitute it,

whole,

like a geneticist

reconstructing

the now redundant

Dodo

from a tiny strand

of DNA;

despite the Law 

of Diminishing Returns.


This, of course, is for G-man and his final FF55.  Thank you for all the great Fridays that turned into kick-ass weekends.   We all love ya, and we miss ya already Galen!