83 in ’23
Each year the table tilts a little more
Amd things roll off it to the floor
My health, my kicks, my energy
My body’s pain free functionality
All down there rolling around
With the dust, on the carpet, on the ground
Inaccessible to me, unavailable
Rolling off the tilted terrible table
What I still have is my memory
Or is that the group soul speaking, just a story
But some pieces of my memory are jagged
They won’t roll off if they’re jaded and ragged
They cling tenaciously, I have that at least
And my window
On the southwest corner of my house
The view west toward the lakes
And the endless prairies
It buffets the storms
In its rattly and leaky way
And shows the passing seasons
The nights, the days and my gardens
It’s what I have left and available
And the fragments on the tilted table
4 thoughts on "83 in ’23"
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Wonderful metaphor and wonderful poem, Charlie. Love the idea of the pieces of our life rolling off the table. And that window on the world is priceless.
love the clear-eyed candor
Love the thoughts here. Yes, we have a lot, as long as we have our memories. The value of making beautiful new moments that can become everlasting memories, for us and others, grows greater as we realize how precious memories are.
The metaphor works so well – from beginning to end.