Ronna Bloom: Poem

Poem

This is Our Time

The words arrive to say: this is it. There is no other
time for us. It’s now. And also:
there was a time that wasn’t ours.
There will be. And it is moving quickly.

Something made me think of Sam.
How big he was in my world
and gone.
How a hundred or a thousand
years ago there was an equally big
Sam had a whole world
of people love and struggle with him.
And gone.
And coming up
there’ll be another I won’t know.

But it’s possible that right now
I’m Sam.
We are.