When the Time Comes
by Elijah Morosky
When the time comes,
I hope to be able to say
That at least I tried to pay attention.
That I watched for when the branches quivered,
And looked for the tracks in the snow;
That I listened to old age when it talked
Through the crackling voices
Of people and trees.
But I fear it will not be enough,
That one day I’ll sit up in bed and ask,
Where did I put my glasses? Or my shoes?
And the paintings will have fallen off the walls and rolled out the door
And the nightstand will have grown splintery little feet
And climbed out the window,
And I will say: Now I knew things were going away,
But this is far, far more than I bargained for.
Because I know tragedy cannot always be great.
Sometimes it comes in to the house on an ordinary day
After a few weeks of sun, when with the morning breeze
Coming in through the window and rustling the curtains
You wake up and realize everything is gone.