Poems

untitled

What once was a pebble has gathered
no moss, rolling (not yet
declining?) towards middle age,
that problematic but venerable epoch
of reading glasses
and white hair
and aching back.
I clearly see the oncoming

shadow of dark golden years overtaking me,
weighing on me as I tumble
faster, as we age onward,
dropping like a stone, perfected
for the fall
through a life – if not well
lived – at least
survived.

The blind man hopes
through heightened senses he may hear
the darkness ebb, hindsight
reflected
in the vanity mirror he no longer bothers
with, confident that
maybe
a life without regret is one well lived
after all. After all.


(c) 2019 by Phillip Knight Scott

Written for several prompts:
– August Writing Prompts at Putting My Feet in the Air : “heightened senses”
Ragtag Daily Prompt : “pebble”
Your Daily Word Prompt : “problematic”

Also posted for this week’s real toad challenge. I chose the song “We age onward” … in case you couldn’t tell.