Meeting my Past

Some insights are so clear to me today

that I accept them as truths.

But only a few years ago

I would’ve been hesitant

to consider them at all.

If I met my old self on the street

and we talked over a meal,

I’d consider him problematic

and be concerned for his future.

I’d have no desire to be pals

and would walk away after our meal,

relieved to be free of him,

and he’d probably feel the same.

His addictions would make him uneasy.

My sobriety would remind him

of the demons nipping at his heels

that he would soon have to face.

But he’d come up with another reason

to avoid that thought.

He’d say to himself,

that guy is quiet, that guy is dull,

and his impatience to lift his next drink

would write me off.

Raud Kennedy

If you have any comments on this poem, Raud Kennedy  would be pleased to hear them.