Our Age
Walking, holding hands,
on the shore of dementia.
Not there yet, but we’ve
started releasing balloons.
People think letting go
of the world is tragedy
but the sweeter rose blooms
as the sun goes down
10 thoughts on "Our Age"
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I was gonna say the first two lines are so good. So I guess I will.
However, this is so poignant and ironic that it hits deep for us.
“Releasing balloons”
“as the sun goes down”
So much feeling wrapped up in some beautiful words
This is a perfect poem! Thank you
I love how you see the “silver lining” in such a sad diagnosis. Fantastic write!
My favorite word in the poem is the togetherness of “we” and “our,” the commonality of age rather than the haves and have nots of dementia
The releasing of balloons is lovely.
I love the way you look at old age —not as an ending, but as a kind of celebration. This is what good poetry can do; it can make us look at old ideas and realities in fresh ways. Well done.
I love the balance in form here and “People think letting go/of the world is tragedy”
Love this, Mike. Gives me hope for my own senescence.
Holding hands is the lens through which the rest can be sort of lovely. This is wonderful.