Is today my big moment?
Maybe you can say
Show me answers that aren’t questions
The moment I kissed my wife at our wedding
Got smaller the second she left;
If I’m really a part of all I’ve met
Why does what’s lost matter most?
The great day of my son’s birth
Large head, wee hands
Smaller than the bedlam of his daughter’s
Bright and wet and terrified
Almost as scared as I am now
I look up at a spring sun
Halo swirling pink blown clouds
Even my sky can’t stay put
Now memory begins a new game
Big and small fight to change place
What’s forgotten leaps to first rank
My head feels twisted round my neck
I’d like to move forward
But can only look back
As I forget more, all looks immense
Instants turn bigger than decades past
Is what’s important more important
Than what is not?
It might be good to tell me now