so now what, you say to yourself
at this age.
most of the heavy lifting is
over.
is this it?
is this where we end up.
so many loves gone.
so many friends deceased.
is this it.
television, books, small talk
at the coffee shop.
the wreathe on the door at Christmas.
a window facing the woods.
a poem or two to satisfy some
urge
to write.
is this what it was all about.
going out not with a bang,
but with a limp and a whimper into
that good night.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment