Come What May Poem by Candice James

COME WHAT MAY
© Candice James, Poet Laureate Emerita, New Westminster, BC CANADA
What else can I run with on this fine day?
The fireplace dogs are exhausted they say
and the Siamese cats are busy at play.
I'll just let this day happen, come what may.
The babe's in the cradle, and shaded from sun.
I'm half asleep with dreams coming undone
and its high kick for Jesus and God save the queen
as I think on all the things I could have been:

An old archeologist biting the dust.
A hippie hitch-hiking to Woodstock or bust.
A famous neurosurgeon fixing up brains.
An old west rainmaker coaxing down rains.
A queen of the Nile in ancient Egypt.
A curmudgeon diner who never tipped.
An astronaut in training who never left Earth.
A diamond in the rough or a pearl of great worth.

But now back to reality and the ‘right now'
where I've got a fever and sweat on my brow.
nursing this headache from last night's bender
I realize now I was never a contender.
So I sit on my laurels, not many at best
and stir myself up from my afternoon rest.
What else can I run with on this fine day?
Not much, shackled down with these two feet of clay.
The cats and fireplace dogs have run away
so I'll just let this day happen come what may.

And having said that … there's no more left to say.