The Long Good-Bye

This is good-bye

old friend;

if not forever,

than at least for a while.

It’s been a good time,

no doubt about that,

but I stopped looking for good times

a long time ago.

 

They just don’t pay the dividends

that they did

when we were young.

They left me soft

and under-equipped

to deal with the hard times

when they come.

 
I know you’ve had your share

of hard times,

and I wish that there were more

that I could do,

than to send you off

with the idea

that seeking hard times

might save you.

 

That life of comfort is a noose

of soft and silken rope

and it slides down around our necks,

before it kicks the chair.

We don’t get our legs under us,

we just panic,

limbs flailing,

until consciousness narrows

and we go the way

of comfort.

 

All those insulating layers

are ill-fitted

to staving off

the cold and the conflict.

The less you seek it,

the more it finds you.

You draw it to you,

when you are prey.

 

So be the predator;

and as I see you go,

please know,

that I don’t wish to hear of sorrow.

Send me writ

of cities conquered,

of enemies vanquished,

of fear itself defeated.

 

Go with God, my friend

and if you don’t know Him,

then go with whatever

you still have in you

left to drive you

to slay Comfort;

that old demon.

 

HG – 2019

 

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