Poetry Thursday-ish #7

I haven’t blogged in forever. Nor have I written a poem in forever. Life happens and sometimes – ok, a lot of times – I forget to slow down and think and write about it. Two days ago I had a feeling I couldn’t shake, a sort of nostalgia mixed with déjà vu. And as I slowed down and thought about how I was feeling and why, this poem came out.
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Something about the oldness

 

Something about the oldness
of the days the feeling
of years of winters and
storms and lives lived
and the realness the
grit in the ground under
my fingernails cold breath
pulled away by the wind
down dark
alleyways away
from where I am now
thoughts of you and
yesterdays
the oldness
now creeping in my bones
the clouds
always closer
the gray in my hair
and feet that no longer
fly
fingers that
no longer stretch
for every unseen thing
wrapped instead
around seconds trying
to get away
like smoke
from the stacks of ancient
abandoned factories
and the mountains
my old friends
look down with kind
sad eyes and I know
they know
this feeling

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