We don’t talk about babies anymore
And we haven’t been drunk together in ten years.
My friend tells me about a strategy for receiving long-term care in
I tell myself: You should figure out what Medicare is
But the confusing part will be understanding why I should care.
I am older than this friend.
We are watching prairie dogs scream and scold and scurry.
Indignant and resentful as hell
We tread the crumbling dirt
Over their hallways and nurseries.
For a moment the trails all look the same. We pause.
Is this really where we are now?
We were not paying attention but –
The map indicates that all trails will merge shortly.
Later, at home, I realize that
My newest thermos is older than my youngest student
And I wonder if I’ve bought my last refrigerator.
You understand, right? I didn’t ask for any of this.
LAURA MEYER is a long-time poetry lover and recent poetry writer. She grew up in the Midwest but moved to Colorado 23 years ago to pursue graduate education. Currently, She is a statistics professor in a graduate psychology program and conducts research on topics such as animal maltreatment. Over the past few years, she has reconnected with her long-ignored poetry-loving self, dabbling a bit in writing and taking a few courses at Denver’s Lighthouse Writers Workshop. Although she enjoys the works of a wide range of poets, her favorite is still fellow Midwesterner, William Stafford.