Contention

By paperandink

Tue, 10 Jun 2008
  • 909 reads
4 comments
 

An old woman gazed
beyond my shoulder
at yesterday—
image gnarled, serene
hardened at the iris.

Memory she saw,
unable to impart
as wisdom.

Who listens
to an old woman—
broken once by the same
bones of contention
in a youthful year,
so long ago?

Now, speech has slowed,
movements stilted
with mind sharp
and reasoning clear,
but memory is
only a lesson,
yearning for
one more tomorrow.

Her eyes caught mine
mouth busy with unsaid words,
she grinned half-lipped,
shrugged,
feigned tiredness
and turned,
resigned to
another tomorrow.

Certificate U
Poem
All that isn't the other
Miscellaneous

Comments

Submitted by jennifer on
My greatest fear...growing old. I am succeeding in getting younger by the day, however! This is a terrifying truth. The old are patronised by society and their wealth of experience is never valued as it should be. 'broken once by the same bones of contention' is superb.

 

Submitted by paperandink on
Thanks Jennifer. As a child I loved listening to the stories of the 'old' woman (in her eighties) who lived up the street from me. She had the world's wisdom to impart and time was running out for her. This piece is rather a tribute to her and the tiredness of giving advice and it not being heeded.

Submitted by Dynamaso on
but memory is only a lesson, yearning for one more tomorrow. This is profound, wonderful and very true. While my body might age, my mind will be forever seeking the next tomorrow.

 

Submitted by paperandink on
Thank you for the feedback Mark. We always think we have all the time in the world. Time passes quickly the older we get!