It’s not as easy as you might suppose, To get a life. And once you’ve gotten one, You know so little of the life you chose,
The one that you said, “positively glows With possibilities, bright as the sun”— It’s not as easy as you might suppose
To realize that it had turned to prose In the moments after it had just begun, Draining all color from the life you chose.
At forty-five, you find you all but doze Through what you’re doing as through all you’ve done. It’s not as easy as you might suppose
To watch the river as the river flows And not to think about oblivion. The one thing certain of the life you chose
Is that it’s what you’ve wound up with, God knows, The halting shadow that you can’t outrun; It’s not as easy, as you might suppose, To be that certain it’s the life you chose.