Monday, October 7, 2013

My Fifty-First Fall

My Fifty-First Fall

My fiftieth summer has passed too quickly
and I know there is a bitter old man waiting
out there beyond the equinox. I do not look
forward to his arrival. At this latitude winter
clings to the concrete like dog shit to a shoe.

I remember the abandon of my 10th winter
and the simple joy of snow angels and hot
chocolate. I suppose the longer you live,
the seasons are not so much an adventure
as they are another marker of time slipping by.

I want to chase the moon across the night sky
until it hides behind the sunrise like I did
in my eighteenth spring, or make backseat love
to a girl while too drunk to remember her name,
like I did so many times in seasons long past.

Spring number fifty one waits in the wings
and I wonder if there is any wonder left;
something more than a tally of days and nights
expired. They say you are only as old as you feel,
I hope to God that is not true.

The skies are grey this morning, a neutral pallor
that blends with the concrete like a watercolor
painted without care. As I waited for the train,
in the distance, I heard the soft notes of a piano.
I hope the music doesn’t stop before my train arrives.

SMG

9 comments:

Eden Baylee said...

Terrific, love the progression

Here's to the next 51!

eden

Joseph Hesch said...

Happy Birthday, SMG!

I began writing poetry relatively well after I reached reached the Mendoza Line of age 50.

But the best thing about it is we can toss ourselves back into those images and sensory experiences, as you do here, to relive them. Maybe even giving them a little more polish than they had when we lived them.

Well done, sir. Cheers! ~ jh

Brian Miller said...

i think there is still wonder there...we have to dust a bit of the world off of us at times to see it...happy birthday man...i hope this coming year is filled with opportunities to revisit a bit of that old wonder and find new....

moonlitpoetic said...

very touching...

ayala said...

Happy Birthday! Great poem !

Katie said...

Very nice! Birthday's always bring us to the past somehow.

paintswithwords said...

good write, poignant but I find myself wondering why so many see old age as a loss for wonder. I, being older than your fifty years find wonder in life every day and excitement in the small things the mundane kept me from enjoying. Indeed, my wonder is like a second childhood..I hope you find it soon

Truedessa said...

Happy belated birthday.."I want to chase the moon across the night sky until it hides behind the sunrise"..me too...

Kate Mia said...

Well at 51 there was no wonder of fall for me..but it is truly a delight at 53..so I suppose there is always change..and fall maybe for even better...