Aging
You feel
the lacks,
the random blank moments,
the diminishment.
The fine life fabric you wove,
threads of connections, experiences,
moments of true beauty,
has held you secure, but
the threads feel looser now,
the edges cut and frayed,
from the jettisoning
required to maintain momentum,
but
You are:
Still finely woven (mostly)
Still present
Still vibrant.
3 thoughts on "Aging"
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I can relate to this poem! I have big gaping holes in my weaving lol. Thanks for the reminder that we are still alive and vibrant!
Love it!
The poem, that is, aging not so much. But better than the alternative.