Reckoning

The taxes become more and more

difficult to do, a result, perhaps,

of my life becoming more full,

more rich, although frankly

it feels more as if I’m being

wrapped up, thread by thread,

form by form, like Gulliver,

or a fly about to be eaten.

No.

            That’s not right.

Let’s be somewhat honest today.

I’m neither hero nor victim.

I wasn’t forced to wed, have kids,

buy a house. But, I must give

an accounting of my actions,

and this, I suspect, is the source

of our resentment each spring,

how we must provide a reckoning,

even as we understand the numbers

don’t explain what we’ve done or why,

and no matter what the tally says

it’s far too soon to know just what

it is we may have gained or lost.