All Theose Moments

A day
is not long. Three days
will pass
in a moment.
I’ll never miss them.

Last week,
on the verge of the Indian Neck trip;
this week,
well past it, anticipating
the Lanesboro trip.

What’s wrong
with marking time like this?
The experiences
are fun, but I’m
so glad when they’re over!

Hypocritical,
I guess, to say I enjoyed
something, when
I was all the time looking
forward to it ending.

This isn’t
what they mean by being
in the moment.
I tolerate the moments, while
wishing I could leap past them.

I suppose

I’ll be glad when I'm dead, then—
the obvious
next consideration. Or will
I regret all theose moments?