Sunday, October 3, 2010

Calm
I looked into a mirror, my hair had grown Old
Streaks of white like longish ghosts haunt me as songs of time
Those years past spent on a doldrums sea
Avoidance, gaps in terminable days, the delirium of youth
Supplanted by What?
The answer in growing old
Replaced by calm? At peace with this roiling world?
Someday they will come. The mocking time. The longish ghosts

7 comments:

Deborah said...

Some VERY good poems here, glad I stopped by! ... thanks for popping by mine :o)

Juice Box said...

I think getting old will a journey that I enjoy to the fullest.

Old Ollie said...

Getting older is a journey - I try to remain calm and "enjoy to the fullest" - but damn it can be absurd!

Sherry Blue Sky said...

"the mocking time...the longish ghosts".....beautiful!!!!!

Jingle said...

wise words.

Jingle said...

http://thursdaypoetsrallypoetry.wordpress.com/2010/10/09/mountains-are-high/

claim the poetry award on the bottom of the post if you wish.
Thanks for the support.

Mary said...

The streaks of white like longish ghosts eventually find us all!