Rings

Methinks I’m spending way too much time thinking and dreaming. Rings yet—I mean, that’s pretty much far out.

Rings

Would that we added rings
like the trees,
as the years add up—
good years,
bad years,
and mediocre—

wide rings for wet years,
narrow for the dry ones,
and well, mediocre
for those years in-between.

Where would they be found,
these rings of ours?
Why, in our bones of course,
for they are the trunks that support us?

Would that we added rings
like the trees.
Would that we could
so those that follow
could read our rings
and know how we survived—
what we endured—
which were the good years,
the bad,
and the mediocre.

Would that we added rings
like the trees—
would that we could.

Vi Jones
©March 19, 2006