Celebrity bores
I crave sapid exchange – bird
song, sweet and tender
I am past prime – gigs dried up
but nature provides plenty.
(Image mine)
Tag: age
Shadow Dancing
Inessential am I
ghost of a woman
burden avoidance
Imperfect am I
each flaw a step
towards deepening blue
And yet, I exist
purpose unknown
shadow dancing.
(Image: Self-portrait)
Grownup?
Armed with plans
and guidelines, we
ready for life’s climb,
unaware that childhood,
untamed and intact,
takes the lead.
Armed
Influence minimal,
once hair turns white
and body slows to sloth
Only words – genderless
and without context
serve to blindside
Last weapon of age.
(Image from created by yours truly.)
Lost Childhood
Gossamer
that thread,
that sparkle,
that vestige
of my youth
I try to hold on,
gnarly grip
no match for
her exuberance
Hope we reunite
next time around.
(Image from personal collection)
Old Codgers
Idleness fills his hours
as if time knows no limits
I devour moments, afraid
tomorrow will forget me
we see-saw between
treacherous righteousness
and fusty avoidance
ignoring balance –
a sensible response.
(Inspired by the perils of an aging marriage, and submitted for Ragtag Community’s prompt: fusty.) Image from personal collection.
Even Trees Fall
Majesty is a tree
quiet strength
and vulnerability
no more sheltered
from acts of nature
than I – none
impenetrable,
although youth
believes it –
days when strength
equates with rigidity,
resistant arrogance
A right fighter, was I,
iron will, in control –
never measuring up
such foolish nonsense –
destructive, no doubt,
took illness to educate
recognize courage in
withdrawal, merits
of inviting understanding
physical limitations
birth potential –
gracious acceptance
surrender of struggle
open, vulnerable,
rooted, like a tree.
No Expiry Date
Such a gift is youth –
silvers stars and bows,
jingle-jangle wishes…
Seldom opened –
shame and insecurity
casting doubt, despair
Shall we try again,
age and wisdom
steeped in appreciation.
(Written for Willow Poetry’s What Do You See Challenge, the prompt being the featured image.)
Aged
Even in the waning times –
memories of youth fading –
there are traces of a personality,
hints of the contours
of a life well-sculpted,
having weathered all that
the years dared challenge.
Past Ripe
Fertile is love –
an ancient fruit tree
soft and up-giving
were life root
almost too wet –
moony world
Secret: I wither,
am stone berry –
no rain at lake
walk bucolic earth
follow winter cover
shed colour
watcher,
will live,
do.
(Friday is Magnetic Poetry day. Image is from personal collection.)
