Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Brittle Leaves

It's a difficult thing, admitting I've
grown old, no longer denying the truth,
and staring deep into my mortality which
until now I've not wanted to accept.
In those flourishing days of my youth
I often felt as if I could outgrow my skin,
heaving and throbbing with life’s lust,
but now I feel I am shrinking back,
back too far into this aging, useless shell,
finally seeing how I'm at the autumn
of my life while it gathers around me
as brittle leaves swirl about a lamppost.

(A revision)


Adelaide said...

Hi Warren,

I like your phrase: throbbing with life's lust. Getting old is something we don't think about when young; now I think about it frequently. It's depressing, a downer, as the younger folks say. I find that many of my poems, tanka more than haiku, are about being old. I almost wrote, getting old, but at 76 I'm there already., However, people are living much longer. I just read that the oldest known person,a woman in Georgia was 116 when she passed away today.

Keep writing and keep your spirits up.


Warren said...

Hi Adelaide - Thanks for your comments - they are appreciated! Yes, I too frequently think about getting old but I've come to the conclusion that all of us, young and old alike, only live until we die and none of us know when that time will come. So, try (not easy) to live each day as if we are young and full of life, and when that fails, just write about it. Hah-ha!


Bill said...

getting older
the people
I call old

Lauren said...

A beautiful post. Yes, as I enter old age, and the loss that accompanies it, I often feel the same. Yet there are time when I feel a deep, quiet joy, gratitude for knowing things now, and for so many of the masks and dramas of younger times being behind me. Those times I feel a deep contentment with it, knowing that this also part of the soul's journey.

And that we have so much offer......we need to remember that........

Magyar said...

__If we collect the years... like penneys, we often need a bigger piggy-bank. ;<)

The young say... the old know nothing; here are four things that I do not know.
__Is it, then, that the young should teach us?
__Are we old enough to learn?
__Are we too old to learn?
__Who taught the young?


Frank... said...

A nice poem, Warren. I wish you and your family a Happy Christmas & all the best for 2013...

Warren said...

Hi Bill - Funny how the "older people" aren't so old when you get up there as well. Thanks!


Hi Lauren - Yes, I too seem to have reached a point where I feel finally, finally feel contentment. So many of my years I didn't feel that contentment and I am grateful I'm finally there. Thanks for stopping by!


Magyar - You always have words of wisdow to share - thanks!