Closer
When will it be
that she sees
the shock of the old?
When will she stop in her tracks,
stop her breath,
and take charge of my feelings,
so that I’m not hurt by more
than the passing of time?
No time soon.
She marauds over me
like terrain to be conquered.
My arms are limbs to swing from,
my legs and back juts and jags
of rock and granite to be scaled
and hammered. My head
a peak to stand atop
to command her domain.
She sets her feet on me
trusting the ground won’t give way.
There is no discussion or greeting,
no approach, no preamble –
I am a cliff face up which to scramble.
Ageless and eternal, forever there,
how could I not repay the compliment
by standing tall as the sky,
like a caveman trying to reach the sun.
beautiful , more poetry please Dara. love to the 3 of you on these strange throwback timed. xxLynne
Thanks for the lightning-fast response Lynne, lovely to hear from you. Hope you’re all well in Bahana! xx
I enjoyed your poem. Lovely scene of child and father at play.
Hope you are all keeping well and washing hands during this unfamiliar period. x
Thanks Helen. 😊 My hands are spotless, thank you! Take care. x
Thank you for your thoughts Dara, Always good to read them
Nice one Gavin, thanks for reading.😎
Beautiful Dara, love your words. It’s all a season, look after yourselves xx
Thanks T, love that comment. And seasons come, and seasons go. Stay well. x