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I suppose, given that we are on the cusp of the Geminid Meteor Shower, that this piece of fluff might be deemed appropriate. The Geminids were not the inspiration - they were and are, the coincidence.
We are but comets
flashing across each other's sky
points of light in the night
grazing atmosphere
the touch of youth is as fleeting
golden hair goes gray
the firm flesh and vigor
sag and wrinkle
and the cloak of venerability
descends and clouds
we continue in our orbit
or burn up midair
but no one sees anymore
that bright comet that was
Ndinombethe.
6 comments:
A wonderful description of aging.
Oh, I still see your comet, Lou. :-)
Lovely piece on aging. We are old enough now ourselves to see some of the young we've known grow old, and sometimes it is so hard to reconcile the person in our mind's eye with the person in front of our eyes.
Yes, PattiKen is right-your comet is easy to see. :)
I love:
the touch of youth is as fleeting
golden hair goes gray
I just noticed that B1's hair is graying more-little flecks of silver on the sides of his cute head.
But not my hair...I think I'll be this color for a while...as long as they still sell my color! LOL!
So true and said so well. Thank you!
An inspiration to love the ones you are closest to...
I really like this poem, I really do.
But I still want to see....
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