Older
By FlatDaddy
Days lumber into nibs
nights creak forever
Good times erase themselves with lost memories
bad ones multiply in puddles
Pain shakes hands with madness
while elbows wobble
Rain falls in my closet
where holes nap on rusted hangers
Reflection, afraid to show its face
lies flatly on the table
Feeling numbs, sight dims,
hearing speaks with irreverent silence
‘til taste dulls words once known to shine
and, at last, memory …
I recently wrote a piece about aging too. I visit my mother in her apartment building every weekend and I see others there, just hanging out in the lobby alone. She says they never get guests and that many of her neighbors are jealous of her consistent visitors. It made me sad to think about all the stories sitting in silence. I’ll post it in honor of this poem and its message
Thank you, my treasured friend. I will certainly be honored to see and read it.