end to end
lifetime just a moment
years like seconds
a sweeping arc nearly
come full circle
now a crawl
midnight ever closer
Another poem in my recent obsession with aging, this is my response to
Reena’s Exploration Challenge #172.
The theme is Components of Time.
Image source: needpix.com (edited here)
The Final Peak
Was it really limitless, expansive
in its capacity to carry me forward?
Surmounting any obstacle,
minuscule, now, looking back.
The final peak draws nearer, the end
closer, the time that fills this vessel
less, the further it climbs.
Some mountains are insurmountable.
This is my response to Quadrille #97: Filling the Page — the prompt from De Jackson
at dVerse, using the word fill in a 44-word poem that does not require meter or rhyme.
Image source: pixabay.com
Sight now limited
to moving shapes, what is sound
to an aging border collie?
A low rumble, the barely
open window anticipating
the coming rain. She paces
in the dark, a rare occurrence,
hearing mostly gone.
From the side of the bed,
she nudges my hand. Reaching
down to rub her ears, I know
this won’t do, rise to sit
beside her, stroke her side.
These days will be gone.
We all need comfort.
Megan, these past 2+ years:
April 4, 2015
September 11, 2015
April 24, 2016
December 8, 2016
January 24, 2017
April 21, 2017
Fermentation, and Lessons Learned
A bottled life and selective
capacity. How to fill?
Will yeast stay
at the bottom? What floats,
and do we dare
skim the surface, or do we
take a long draft?
Given the opportunity,
age will lend character.
Inspired by a comment by Robert Okaji, on end of daily toil, who said, “It’s not the thought of aging that bothers me, but rather the fact that there’s so much I want to learn and do, and so little time for it. Oh, wasted youth! 🙂”
The light is gone this autumn day,
Ironically, as I believe
Each moment contains its own light
The seasons pass, then fade away
Just out of reach, like drowning leaves
As they approach their own midnight
My winter comes, with no delay
As through autumn it interweaves
Its days both short and quite finite
I don’t look forward with dismay
Or see this as a time to grieve
No time for that in my twilight
For I seek light where it may shine
The time that’s left will still be mine
This is my reply to Jane Dougherty’s Poetry Challenge #36: Drowning leaves, write a trilonnet inspired by her photo, starting the poem with “The light is gone…”
Trilonnet ~ four 3 line stanzas
~ 8 syllables per line
~ rhyme pattern abc, abc, abc, abc, dd