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
cul de sac
1 month ago
7 comments:
Some VERY good poems here, glad I stopped by! ... thanks for popping by mine :o)
I think getting old will a journey that I enjoy to the fullest.
Getting older is a journey - I try to remain calm and "enjoy to the fullest" - but damn it can be absurd!
"the mocking time...the longish ghosts".....beautiful!!!!!
wise words.
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.
The streaks of white like longish ghosts eventually find us all!
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