Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Step back...

Right there
step back a foot or so
until I can no longer see the face sagging
and your neck
what have you done to that neck?

What have I done?
I have hung on the rails of life
day and night and day
until my fingers froze in place
my eyes stopped blinking
lest i would miss that tiny
bug that would spoil the soup.

I'm done now. I can see that, and this and all other sagging parts
parts I thought had been stubborn from the start, actually, from
that eleventh year when parts became important in so
many ways and no stepping back
or forward helped anything
except a compliment from a teacher,a friend
a stranger.

Like the man on the bus with the strong cologne smell who told you he knew your father
how he played at weddings too
he said, and suddenly squeezed your leg asking you if you sang as well as your father.
You froze in that pose
not knowing what your next step should be.

You know now; now that nothing can be done
about anything that has passed; yesterday and last century all gone
discarded instamatic from the drug store
one day bleeding into the other, each day just more cloudy than the rest.


We tell ourselves we grow wiser.
More like dogs,  we step up eagerly when  new smells are introduced.

9 comments:

  1. nothing can be done of our past....surely...and hopefully we grow wiser...and the sags dont bother us as much either....smiles.....
    i do love me some new smells though....

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  2. "You know now; now that nothing can be done about anything that has passed; yesterday and last century all gone" ... this line is a 'sit up, snap to attention, get real piece' of insightful wisdom. Love it!!!

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  3. Validation! I've never felt wiser with age. And the only thing that saves many of us from wandering off after the new smells is they come along less frequently now.

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  4. Wiser in that we have something unique to offer after all our experiences as we hung on the rails of life...

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  5. The passing of time: you captured what it does so well.

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  6. sagging, what sagging? you're gorgeous:)

    no arrival point, only so many radiant points along the way.

    xo
    erin

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  7. You're one of those poets who writes with a passion that is hard to match. Many thanks.

    Greetings from London.

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