A Second Go At It

I wrote this poem a few days ago and then I wrote it again last night from scratch. Hence the title.

And so
Like many a
Middle-aged man
Before me
I have fallen into
The bad habit
Of comparing
My life to my father's
In various ways

Such as the ratio
Of opportunities lost
To regrets encountered
Along the way

How at the same
Stage in life
He too found himself
Unmoored and unsure
What to do with
Whatever years
Remained

But if the world
Is a sea upon
Which each of us
Journeys
My father relished
The part of Magellan
So many times he circled
The globe but to what end
I wonder other than
To expand his passport
Accordion style

Whereas
I'm much more
At home here
In the garden
Circumscribed
By the lattice fence
And privet hedge

The earth's hold on me
Is undiminished
Grubworms and all
Immersed in the study
Of all these befores
And I can only hope
A few more
Hereafters