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Growing Old

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Time is tasting our tangibility,
Wrapping skin into creases of dimly lit memories
That hold our minds together like breath
Carries us.

Our fingers rest upon bedspreads now,
As sporadic images warm our cold skin
Like flame beneath paper -
Memory burning the moans of shivering palms.

My thoughts have started to slide apart
Like tiny tangerine slices
As they ripen and soften.
Nectar swells in my eyes

And spills to the curves of my jawbone.
You kiss their quiet presence away
And remind me
Of their sweetness


For the last time.





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This article has 9 comments. Post your own now!

HeartsSahra said...
Oct. 11, 2011 at 10:52 pm

 I love this so much. I don't know what kind of stories you've been hearing about lately, but I sure hope I can find love like this.

-Naomi

 
Rumbleseat Nana said...
Oct. 10, 2011 at 11:11 pm
You have the gift, dear one. 
 
Mr. OD said...
Oct. 10, 2011 at 3:11 pm
Excellent work!  This poem displays a great deal of depth and empathy.  I love the tangerine image - very fitting!
 
SahraBaraB replied...
Oct. 10, 2011 at 4:47 pm
Thank you so much OD!! It has been forever! I hope you and your family are doing well :) much love! 
 
Sen said...
Oct. 10, 2011 at 3:08 pm
Beautiful!
 
Massi said...
Oct. 10, 2011 at 12:50 pm
This is beautiful, sweet and sad in the best of ways. Keep spittin!! <3
 
TrevoDman said...
Oct. 10, 2011 at 12:03 pm
GOOD JOB THIS POEM IS AMAZING
 
nono said...
Oct. 10, 2011 at 12:02 pm

Wow. This poem is filled with wonder and wisdom in equal measure. I wish that the rating device was functioning properly. I tried to rate it 5 stars and it came out as one! Also, lots of people are trying to rate it are not able to... Keep writing...you are very talented.

 

 
SahraBaraB replied...
Oct. 10, 2011 at 12:04 pm
Thank you so much! :)
 
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