A Reprise--Now is all there is
I wrote this poem last year, late spring, before the last Cornerstone Festival. This week I would have been there at the fest grounds, in Bushnell, possibly at the Wal-Mart in Macomb. This is for all of you--writing your memories at Cornerstone Memories , because now is what we have left. Now is all there is Now is all there is. We never once thought it would change. There would always be dusty roads and distances to cover And egg water and mildewed hay bales and volleyballs hitting us in the head. There would always be long lines, too many people, and heat That descended like a sweat fog covering the land like a pestilence, Or like a brick of congealed gummi bears left out too long. Every year there was summer and there was Cornerstone, We lived all year planning, scheduling, debating, Coming up with a theme, making T-shirts, producing press kits, ordering doughnuts, And yet we were never ready. Never prepared with enough golf pencils at registration, ...