Oxford, On the Way Home

I was so sure that I would be a new man,
And yet I have the same bad habits.
Maybe I've changed in some invisible way,
But that's a contradiction.
Have I grown?
Some, but only I notice.
Am I a better man?
Better than what;
The past?
An alternative present?
Someone else?
I journeyed to find myself,
Instead I found more questions.
Some have answers,
Others remain mysteries.
Was it worth the trouble?
This quest's value cannot be measured
By words,
Or letters,
Or figures.
The best measure (though still very poor),
I would do it again.
Am I sad that this chapter is over?
Ask me tomorrow.
Do I feel confident about the future?
I can't afford not to.
Will I reminisce fondly?
I already do.

December 2, 1990

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