AGING

When the petals
Have fallen
From the flower
And the stem has turned to rust

Beauty has flown
Away with
Autumn breezes.
The nape of age
Thickens
Like a dog’s winter coat.

I will have shed my tears
For the unopened experiences
Of those things
Only the naivety of youth can hold…
albeit fleetingly.



 

You will have tasted
The fruits
Of my character,
Heard the utterances
Of my soul
In its last earth breath.

Melancholy suits
The end of harvest.
The fruit is in.
Its quality
Found full
Or wanting.