Anticipation vs Recollection

Pining for a past shadow;

An ideal apparition that does not exist

beyond the realm of longing and memory.

Robbing from the present

are these specters from the past.

Unreconcilable even to what now exists.

Serving to press one not to miss out;

yet also distracting us to keep glancing behind.

The view from the review mirror does possess value.

Alerts us to those ghosts gaining enough speed that they might overcome us.

Too frequently focused on this view though,

increases the likelihood of a crash.

Missing the forward obstacle altogether as our distracted eyes look back.

Other times perhaps simply missing a turn ahead which disrupts our journey

And makes us take the next exit and turn around.

Not focused enough or worse at all, however;

fails to gain the full benefit of the lessons learned

While those events were ahead, instead of behind.

Balance the scale as it teeters between our accumulating bounty;

Gained from each of our life experiences

Bound either to the side of anticipation

or the side of recollection.

Coins of varying value added

depending on the minting runs of that particular day.

Some days overwhelming the scale

like spoils won from a one-armed bandit.

Clanking in a cascade of raining gold

corresponding to the flashing, blinking triple sevens

while some loud sounds announce their arrival.

The excitement even draws onlookers,

in equal parts envy and excitement,

to share in the chaos;

as we crawl around the floor

on our hands and knees

eagerly scooping in each new glimmer

as it catches our eye.

Like some vacuum might

while collecting all the spilled glitter

from the bottle that was just accidentally knocked over

while doing crafts with our daughter

on the living room floor.

Maybe too distracted by our glitter collecting task that day

to notice a similar but just perhaps smaller scale

off to our daughter’s side

being piled with its own set of coins.

The pile was larger than when we started

Even if we didn’t notice while it was in the act of growing.

The new coins looked like they could even be

some of the rare 1933 Double Eagle $20 ones

just like those added during some of our own younger days.

Other days perhaps just a small pile of the meek coppery disks

with honest Abe on them are added:

A nondescript Wednesday traded for responding a full 8 hours

to emails about batch schedules, missing forecasts,

or simply agreeing to future trades

for yet to be known future allotments of coins.

Perhaps trades for just more of the coppery ones (most likely in this context).

Perhaps more pulled from the clutches of the one-armed bandit (if we are lucky).

Perhaps even more Double Eagle ones (if we are really lucky).

We hoard our more valuable doubloons, the rare out of print ones

The special daily runs that cannot- will not- be reminted.

Our special aeries could become full of residents

but if not then they will continue to grow and be reinforced

to support the need when—if—the time comes.

Sleeping like Smaug on top of his mountain

but perhaps treasuring more than he does because we are human.

At least we polish them off once in a while and see our reflection in the shine.

Not just leave them adhering against our flesh from the pressure of our own weight.

Only to lose their grip when we rise from our slumber and change positions

to fall like drops of rain returning to their siblings that are peering up from below.

These disks in our hoard are the currency we should be using

To bribe the chasing ghosts to leave us alone.

Show them the bounty we have;

Not ashamed of the amount reflected in copper

versus gold

versus the ones with wings.

When they seem to be gaining on us;

Breathing down our necks even,

Throw a handful of our coins at them

And they too will end up on the floor

Mimicking our casino posture;

Caring not at all whether they might collect copper or gold or ones with wings.

Once the coins are touched, they will realize the harsh truth

That these disks can never be owned by our ghosts.

They evaporate completely or at the very least

must restart their pursuit;

All over again and from a further distance

while the coins instantly return to our scale.

The past is the past.

There is no way for the ghosts to ever do anything more than pursue

And only as long as we let them.