Unfinished Life
by Odin Roark

Sitting at river’s edge,
He wondered if he too
Was caught up in the lyrics.
“Is that all there is?”

Peggy Lee had made an impact,
Way back then,
But that was…
Way back then.

Could he really complain?
Was this life he had often F’ed up
More times than he wanted to remember,
Really as bad as…unfinished?

He asked strangers on the street,
“What did you do with your life?”
Avoiding hard looks,
Slanderous words,
And the ubiquitous third finger,
He assumed such was a question
Only a person could ask themselves.

It was only when he walked the miles,
Arrived at the river and looked into the calm waters,
Where the rippling mirror delivered the epiphany…
Of course this short tenure on earth
Is but a…what?

He smiled
He loved the thought,
An unfinished life…

Obviously there was more…
Where?
When?
How?

It didn’t matter.
The mystery was the friendly provocateur ,
Knowing his pursuit, the “he” who walked to the river,
Gazing at his rippling reflection
Was ready for the answer…

As the water’s movement quieted,
His face grinned back at him.
“You want answers,” he seemed to hear.

“And?’’ he asked, not knowing who he was talking to,
Until the unexpected ripple of water winked back.

He walked back uptown, smiling.
“I should have known that,” he consoled himself.
“As long as you have questions,
There is no Unfinished Life.