Yield

You are the thing that’s moving. Slow down. Wait.
You can’t rush Christmas or grow up faster.
“All in the fullness of time,” which you hate,
then you learn how long it takes to master
even the smallest skill. Others are better
stronger, smarter. You can’t “…do anything
you set your mind to!” Trust it. Persevere.
Your reach is small, but it’s still not nothing.
Push, push, hurry, hurry, worry, worry
Strive, compete, achieve, lose, dream, wish, smile, frown
Your way past this, that, the other. Blurry
In life’s rearview mirror. Try to slow down.
There’s nowhere to go. Nothing to win. See?
The elk stand still in the light. Andante.


This is a Shakespearean sonnet. The rhyme scheme is ababcdcdefefgg. Each line is 10 syllables. The formal rhythm of a Shakespearean sonnet is ba-BOOM ba-BOOM, but I’m not a stickler for that.

6 thoughts on “Yield

  1. Why is it that the most difficult things can’t really be taught? We just have to live, accept, and adapt. The word “wisdom” comes to mind.

    • I was thinking about that as I put this poem together. That’s actually a pretty serious question. Maybe when we’re kids we actually KNOW how short life is without knowing how long it takes to learn anything.

  2. When we are young time moves slowly and we are in such a hurry. Then as we age, time speeds up and we want to slow things… It is indeed a conundrum.

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