He’s 98 now
A man that used to be another
For many years when there was beauty and color
When the hands that now rely on canes to stand
Held children or hands of lovers
Softly brushing hair from her eyes
His own eyes don’t see much of anything anymore
Just the space an inch before his toes
He can’t look back to places he’s been
Or forward to those he will go to next
The world around might as well be empty
Except the space an inch before his toes
His toes move but an inch at a time
His knees don’t extend or spine straighten
The spine that used to support a man
That supported those who used to be around
But who is around now?
Just a man and his shadow
A shadow of a shell
That was taller and stronger
Contained memories of the days before
A life that is no longer his
Now the memories are seen in the wear of his skin
And in the cloak that he wears
His cloak, a gradient of time
Covering a body that has seen too much of that
Down to nothing, like his mind
Empty around and empty within
Because he doesn’t remember
He can no longer at the age of 98
3 comments:
Jesse, I really like how you utilize the last line of every stanza to introduce the subject of the stanza to follow; it's effective in maintaining the pace of the poem.
I enjoy the imagery of how monumental simple tasks seem in the face of old age and how they seem to overshadow grandiose experiences of youth. It flows very nicely.
Great use of imagery. Each stanza tells a story however the whole thing flows very nicely. Merveilleux!!!
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