the sunsets of my imagination
have faded to bruised plum
and the thought of Red stirs
no longer a wanting
but piques a wistful curiosity
Tag: aging
One-Man Race
Running a marathon against myself
with a few seconds to spare
to wave to passersby
Some, far ahead
Others sidelined
Spectators I once
confessed dreams to
Yet, the person I fear
is the helpless novice
at the start:
a crying voice
echoing faster
with the years
Travelers
Touch of silver in moonlit space
Cobwebs, darkness, lines to trace
Ages that have worn you well
And lingered in places where they dwell
Smell of parchment worn and thin
Moisture, dryness, and moist again
Rends you till joints ache and refuse
The simplicity of a once youthful move
Yet, warmed by fire and cooled by ice
Fingers that have tempered nice
For touches both sure and gentle
Along thin shoulders just to settle
In camaraderie and love, born of the fear
We hadn’t expressed ourselves to those dear
For we all, travelers, will move on from here.
A Hundred Years More
Once, I craved
the tartness of raspberries
and drowned myself
in operatic arias
I stepped twice
on cobblestones
to hear the echo
of my heels
The scent of lavender
brought me, again
to spring
though the flowers crumbled
in my fingers
I lived winter in ignorance.
Bereaved
Outside my window
A gray, thunderstruck tree
Sags with bent shoulders
Bare-branched and anxiously bowed
It tilts, as if into a future
Where you might return
Pages
In-between the words
A space suspended in time
Though pages yellow
Visiting
Sometimes I wonder if you are well
I hope that you are thinking pleasant thoughts
But when I come into your presence
I can ask no questions but only hope
That I give you solace and leave no burden
Convalescent
Sometimes all I can do is throw you things
Sweets and magazines, photos and kisses
I’m not sure what will lift your lethargy
That acceptance of the inevitable
But I want you for a moment to smile
I want you to be reminded that you are loved
And that I think of you
Even if you must think of nothing
RED GLADIOLA 