By Paul E. Schindler, Jr.
I didn’t know it at the time,
But I married the Queen of Letting Go.
I don’t know the King of Letting Go,
But I feel sure I’ll never see him in the mirror,
Unless he stands behind me.
I am at best the consort of letting go.
If I improve the Queen might knight me,
But she can never make me king;
That rank is mine alone to attain.
Perchance. At a future time.
Herself is not a hereditary queen:
She obtained the orb
By the book,
Time after Time,
Incident after Incident.
Events and expressions,
Cues and occurrences
That, in others, would bring depression,
Produce days of deep funk,
Are as nothing to her.
Not here today, gone tomorrow;
Here this instant; gone the next.
Anger, annoyance, aggravation:
Mere mortals moping.
Her Royal Highness doesn’t do them.