Procrastination

It has taken me
Some time to write
This particular poem,
Not that it’s hard to finish
But rather the opposite
Because I find the concept
Of procrastination
So odd since there is
No profit in delay.
I observe procrastination
In others and guess there
Must be some virtue
In what is so widely
Popular though
Putting off the
Inevitable
Seems
Odd
To
Me for
Some strange reason.
Someone dear to me has
Put off her doctor’s
Appointment for
The second
Time in a
Week
And
As I am
Driving her
And will meet
Her PCP I have
Begun to wonder
If she is perhaps a
Bit shy of owning up to
All the Meds she has stopped
Taking plus her new life with
Me.
I
Am
Not among
The general realm
Of activities one
Might expect
Of a proper
Retired
Associate Dean
Professor Emeritus
Though she was
Head of the
Dept. of
Rhetoric and
Writing,
And
Surely allowed
A certain literary license.
She likes my poems
But that seems
More a matter
For a feeling
Therapist
Than a
PCP,
Perhaps
She is avoiding
All the implications
Of sharing our
Lives with
Her own
Doctor
Who
She knows
And trusts after two
Falls and scrapes
And to whom she
Will have to
Admit she
Has
Fallen again,
This time in love
But sustained no
Injury except
A tender
Heart
Still
Beating
Still feeling
Romance
In our
70s.