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Nostalgic On A Bridge To Nowhere
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Nostalgic On A Bridge To Nowhere
A nostalgic view of the life of a man in his twilight years.
Richard Koss, other titles
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (47)
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Nostalgic On A Bridge To Nowhere
My boyhood thoughts were mostly of tomorrow; happy thoughts,
sweet and mellow, rarely solemn, never rotten.
Today I think mostly of yesterday, of my youth,
and each day I seem to find something long forgotten.
Life was far from perfect but we never knew that. We had everything
we needed and rarely asked for something out of reach.
The nuns taught us well of God, English, math and science.
We were in good hands but real life lessons were our parents to teach.
Trampled fields were our playgrounds with the smell of green grass,
wild berries and the earthy scent of warm rain that made them grow.
We played in those fields and on our narrow side streets; we played
in the dark till we heard mom call or the streetlights began to glow.
After the war, the fields disappeared and little houses took their place.
So we played on other land wherever we could find some.
Then came the overcrowded playgrounds, and on our streets, too many cars.
New schools were born, kids moved away, the neighborhood felt lonesome.
On to high school, girls, 3.2 beer and black and white T.V.
No designer jeans; just Levi’s, cashmere sweaters and old used cars.
As for crime and drugs, they were far away. Cigarettes made us cool
and our only heroes then were sports celebs and movie stars.
Politics was for the old and civil rights we took for granted.
On relief was begging but at 65, Uncle Sam gave you a check.
Joined the Army and went to college when my hitch was over. Saw the
civil rights movement from my living room but never made the trek.
I expected life to quicken its pace but then it just slowed down.
That’s about the time I drifted further from the present.
My mistake; there were bitter disappointments but some good
times as well. Somehow I salvaged my life; made it less unpleasant.
Today I live in a country enslaved by the internet with technology galore;
still without jobs and little to look forward to.
They keep spending more of what we’ve not. So I just re-wind my remote.
Going forward there’s a bridge to nowhere and at its end, our Waterloo.
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© 2012 Richard Koss
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