It’s time for Meet the Bar and Linda challenges us to consider anaphoria and epiphoria in our poetry, specifically epiphoria with repetition. Last Fall I met old friends for lunch….and we discussed the long ago. Since we met, one of the four has passed on to the What-Comes-Next, but these are my memories of the day. Submitted June 3, 2021
Fifty years of the long ago
we were the mavens of the
parent-teacher group, typical
suburban Moms being room mothers
for our apple-cheeked children,
working at the school festival,
chaperoning field trips, attending ballgames,
and keeping our little post-war prefab houses tidy.
It was so long ago.
That day, we tottered into the restaurant,
much more slowly than in the long ago,
discussed our children and grandchildren,
and all the years between. Behind glasses,
wrinkles and canes, older and wiser, honed
by life’s joys and sorrows, victories and defeats,
we wondered how the years had passed
so quickly since the long ago. It was autumn
in Indiana and autumn in our lives that day, but
the sun was still shining, the air was sweet and
life was good…almost as good as it was in the long ago.