Tag: Aging

The Memory I Have of You

The memory I have of you Is one that’s ever-dimming now; As other lands and other climes Take over my recall – But still, I see a fading bridge, A perfect sort of summer day, Just past the edge of words and rhymes: I almost See it all

Seasons

In spring, you feel the newness of it all. Each feeling is a flower, fresh, unique; Like love or loneliness, each one is pure, And beauty of discovery hangs round The edges of the garden path that leads To who you want to be and where and how — In spring, you feel the newness … Continue reading "Seasons"

To Try the Sky

A boy, I marveled at the clouds, So strange and wondrous in the sky; I’d spread my arms and try to fly, Admired by the watching crowds. I knew that I would not stay small, One day my shoes would scuff their fluff — But now that I am large enough, I rarely look at … Continue reading "To Try the Sky"

Morning Coffee

Sitting at our kitchen table, Eating cereal with sugar, Watching them go through the careful Ritual of making coffee   Always, bigger kids and grown-ups With their ceremonies daily; This one, with a smell like almonds, Orange light from pewter shining   Steam from off of cups while carried, One who stops for milk and … Continue reading "Morning Coffee"

The Life That I Remember

The life that I remember Is like a falling star, So brief, and so ephemeral, And only viewed afar — The life that I remember Had meaning, I recall — But flashed so short, it seems Like it was never there At all

See The Stars

On nights when we could see the stars, We wondered at the glory; Ablaze in constellations, each With some amazing story. The sky turned blank; our love a thing To place in a museum — But, oh, the stars, they’re still up there: Even when we Can’t see ‘em

Fading Capacity

Back when I could both see and feel Landscapes like this I treasured; But senses dull with age, disuse And I’m now rarely pleasured By scenes of art or nature, as Capacities are fading; Yes, losing joy is part of life — But it’s So damned Degrading