Father died.
Mother died.
Aunts and uncles followed.
As I pursued the dream
of living the good life
a whole generation passed away.
A limitless source
of knowledge and experience
of strength and love
cascaded down the well of time.
My buffer zone is gone.
The only barriers
between me and my mortality
are the whims of fate
and the choices I make.
And chosing becomes
a more somber task
when age's wisdom
displaces youth's possibilites.
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Great poem, Dad! Quality work. You should dig up that one about the Woodpecker I think it was, the one that's shaped like the bird, I like that one too.
ReplyDeleteHi, David. I like the poem...and isn't it the cold truth? Life can be trying. Hey, I liked your woodpecker poem, too.
ReplyDeleteHave you been to any anti-war rallies or do you know of any? I've been to the one on Ridge and Indy in Highland. We're getting lots of flak because it's a vet's memorial. So? But I'm hoping we'll move the location so that things don't get too heated up.
Dorothy Niblick (remember me?)