Re-Cycling
Age, a rocky torbegs attitudinal shiftmore wonderthan fortitude Cyclical, actuallywisdom allottingchildish valoura dash of mellow. (For RDP’s prompt: mellow. Image my own.)
Read MoreTag: aging
Teach Me
Teach me reverenceam losing groundchildren adultingmothering in a void Teach me acceptancedisability’s waters floodI’m in the marginsan afterthought I concede life changesrelease control – passionbegs an outlet; I am wornbut I am open. Teach me. (Image mine)
Read MoreDesert
Take me to the desert with mountains at our side; walk with me in shadows let nature be our guide. We’ll stroll amongst the cacti pay homage to the quails; take me to the desert, help me gather tales. The seasons are passing, we’re running out of time; take me to the desert; heal this […]
Read MoreBent, Worn, Alive
Bent – life’s tribulations weighty do not confuse this folding with weakness, I am worn – tested resilience nourishes creativity I am muse rich, alive – alone my story an illustration, my life art.
Read MoreEven Ghosts Yearn
Natural light preferable to artificial – not the harsh fullness of noonday sun but softly filtered rays – luxurious, inviting. Love too, should be subdued, gentle as a zephyr, not mythical but yielding, mindful; not worshipful nor boastful, but comforting, warm I am waning light, the mistral wind wafting, no longer a force of nature […]
Read MoreLosing Touch
Sure-footed she navigates forest floor leaps over obstacles, scales inclines knows each nook and cranny every sound a greeting but seasons pass and time erodes landscapes and senses lose sharpness the nuances of the woods fading memory the wind’s whispers elusive signals inner nymph silenced. (For Ragtag Community’s Daily Prompt: elusive. Image from personal […]
Read MoreGrandmother Vase
Pot-bellied, am I: misshapen by age and gravity – more rot than plump ripe pear – still, a vessel for love – grandmotherly vase. (Image from personal collection)
Read MoreLingering Laughter
Grateful for the wilder times, days when daring ruled – amassed fodder for stories, harmless antics eliciting laughter – ever more sweet as body fails, nothing left but to reminisce. (Twitter Tales. Visit me @Vjknutson.)
Read MoreLove Matured
Words are leaves, poignantly bold when sprouted, destined to wither lose their hold – thank goodness our love is a trunk, solidly rooted, steadfast – no need for words.
Read MoreLosing Ground
In corners, I scrounge – resilience fading; hope, it seems, is sleeping. Living a quarter life, even ascents depressed; dubious that alternatives are worthwhile. Walls would suffice – once dreamt of co-habitating with abundance, now housed with constraints. Age losing preferences, counting worries either way.
Read More