Blackhumouristpress's Blog

May 11, 2018

Forward

Filed under: poem,Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 2:32 pm
Tags: ,

He wakes and sees himself in the mirror, squints like Clint
“I’m the boy I’ve always been… am I too old? I still feel young.”
Life’s a curious thing, miles of road in the rear view mirror and a
dead end up ahead.  It’s not what you heard or what I said. You’ll
soon forget the lunch bags and red roses. The mundane day-to-day
measured in minutes He kissed her lips on a sunny day drove the baby
to where she had to go.  Just trying to get it right.  He wakes when
they’re sleeping, says nothing.  I’m not leaving; it’s just a walk and
a quiet talk to the relatives gone before him letting them know others
are coming.  Fading, fading into a deeper fog of a mind stuck on
reset.  Life’s cruelty is to forget and lose comprehension of where,
what and why.   Life’s a struggle; life is tough but better than the
man with the cup by the freeway.  He’s lived a bunch of years, does he
get more? He thinks the deepest thing might be love.   Memories of
homes and hearts searching for the light switch in the dark.  It’s
there.  You will find it.

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