Tag Archives: aging

October 1, 2023 · 4:19 pm

OLD PATHS

The path beneath my feet

Is one unknown to me.

If I have traversed this way before

It has been lost to memory.

Perhaps, it seems, to be

one once described to me

by lineage and ancestry.

Sicily was often overrun

by strangers to her shore,

Creating new paths to run

new tales of history

of those who had gone before.

Does age create such doubts?

Does age turn straight paths

Into meandering round-abouts

where youthful traffic refuses

to take the time to stop?

Does age create the unmarked trails,

or does youth misdirect those who fail

to take the time to study new maps?

Choosing instead to take a nap.

Forget the nap.

Forget the map.

Become the child again whose life thrives

on striking out for parts unknown

on paths that are not yet overgrown

with comforts and plots we had sown

before we grew too old to recall

what it feels like to stand brave and tall.

Take the unknown path after all.

Live again a life in thrall.

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August 6, 2023 · 11:12 am

TIRED AND RETIRED

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Nights are too long

for those who cannot sleep;

too short for those who labor

longer than is wise to keep a roof overhead.

Each needing to secure 

what is needed to survive

and avoid their demise.

Retirement brings no respite

from feeling desperate.

It is not a lock against the clock

clicking through anxieties that bind

sleep deprived prisoners to their comfy chairs

to sit and simply stare until they can awake

and shake off lost hours abed;

too weary to take a walk 

or pick up the phone to talk,

or create anything worth the time to wait

for applause, faint praise or commendation;

too tired not to expect condemnation.

Why should their be applause

for simply living long enough to retire,

as if gaining years allowed

some reason to feel proud?

Perhaps some lives, like some nights, can be too long.

Time to get up and dance through the dawn.

No life is ever too long

once we learn to dance to our own song.

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July 14, 2023 · 12:35 pm

AGING SPACES

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

Somewhere along the way

the package I carried has been mislaid.

Since I did not notice it missing until today

its importance has made little impact, I’d say.

The years rolled by day-after-day.

space where the package once stayed

grew dusty with age.

Until the day, where nothing could stop the rage

of loneliness filling page-after-page;

searching for communion with those not my age.

Old connections are no longer stable and sure

as death knocks at too many old friends’ doors.

That space covered in dust reminds me anew

of those friends I mislaid as loneliness grew.

Seeking youth and more life is nothing new.

But, I know this to be true.

Old friends can never be replaced.

Their faces remain. They occupy my space.

Their love for me is my only pride.

Dead or alive they fill every space inside

where memory and love will always abide.

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April 27, 2023 · 1:00 pm

RETIREMENT

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

It feels like the waiting has ended.

I no longer know where time goes.

Wherever it is, it has left me behind

as I follow paths no longer known.

Forgotten perhaps, known paths and I,

or should I say me?

A ghost to those I no longer see.

Such freedom is golden, as is my age.

I hammer another nail into the boards

building an enduring new stage

for the play to go on.

A new script takes shape 

on pages of print awaiting new actors

to bring me alive as I sprint

to unknown territory

devoid of all glory.

Welcome, indeed, a new stage for my play.

What better way to spend each new day.

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April 25, 2023 · 6:00 pm

TOO OLD TO SEE

Angelo Annarino, Sr. with his youngest grandchild, Johnny.

Too late I rise to see the dawn

of new days when peace is praised;

when all may love, and loving live;

favored by children who long to give

new ways of seeing, doing and being.

We aged can only live on faith

that youth will find a way through

the messy world we leave behind,

and accept our fervent hope

that one day they may forgive

those who refused to awaken

to what the world could be

if it had embraced love

and respect for all humanity.

Days grow shorter, faster,

sooner to see sleep arrive

and dreams of years of work gone by

to create the space for family to thrive.

Touch remains with soft words of praise

for children and grandchildren

who have learned my ways.

I am satisfied.

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April 20, 2023 · 5:24 pm

AGING

Photo by Nashua Volquez-Young on Pexels.com

A single year’s length

has deprived me of the strength

seventy-four years built.

Like sand it has been seeping 

from muscles knotted and bemused

by excess effort and misuse

and a lifetime of abuse

by Amazonian female dreams

of living by independent means.

Of course, all is not lost 

and I need not count the cost

since enough strength remains

to tend what I must

before this lovely body

bites the dust.

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January 21, 2023 · 6:29 pm

HAIKU

Photo by Pavel Danilyuk on Pexels.com

TAKE A HIKE

I did not retire

only to rehire myself.

Take a hike instead.

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January 14, 2023 · 3:40 pm

BY THE GATE

Photo by Jonathan Borba on Pexels.com

I stand by the gate and yearn.

I did not build the fence.

It serves a purpose, I suppose.

I did not build the gate.

There was no intent to close

the being standing here inside.

I stand by the gate and yearn,

by the gate which keeps you away.

It has no lock. 

You could lift the latch.

But, you simply wave and walk by.

I stand by the gate and yearn.

For what, I no longer know.

It was not always so.

There was a time 

when you would have leapt over

the fence, the gate, any enclosure.

Now, you walk by and wave.

I remember now. I yearn

for you.

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October 16, 2022 · 12:58 pm

HOAR FROST

Photo by photos_by_ginny on Pexels.com

Frost rises before dawn and flees the garden bed

before Sun can catch her in her splendor.

Faster than squirrels she runs across fields and rivulets

leaving white crystals trailing behind in a momentary glittery shine

across the folds of orange and gold left by falling leaves

that shimmer in the slight breeze of Sun-warmed air

to prepare us for the day to come.

Each morning I rise and try to catch Frost by surprise,

but she is too slick, too quick; and I, now too slow.

She laughs in my face with icy breath until I am so cold

my limbs tremble as the those of the trees shedding leaves.

I shed my earthly dreams as frost awakens me to journeys ahead.

Frost is a fleeting thing, reminding me that I am, too.

Frost has turned my hair white; it seems, overnight.

And so I say, “Good morning, Frost.”

And she replies, “Good morning, you.”

Such days are numbered, and too few.

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September 30, 2022 · 3:07 pm

ANGELA’S CHILD

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

How can time get away

when it stands still so much of the day,

encased in memories of yesterdays?

I know I should be doing more

but what more seems 

too tentative to explore.

Batteries charge in the sun as do I,

walking block after block

avoiding clouds’ shadows

avoiding stepping on cracks

lest I break my mother’s back.

I often wonder if she knows

I still follow her path

and watch her back

to find my way;

and, if she 

still watches me.

If so, I know, she is the wind

pushing me along

and keeping me strong.

The wind washes clear

the fog of discontent

and lackadaisical malaise

that seems to come 

with greater age.

I am my mother’s child

wily, wise and wild

still able to get up

off the couch 

and run, and run, and run.

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