My husband's poetry

Category: Aging

  • Scented candles

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    Summer days burned like scented candles. Flames bent to drafts we could not feel. Whiffs of smoke vandalized the brightness of time, smudged the walls of tomorrow’s room. Slow ruin settled in like urban squatters. Residue learned our names, waited in corridors of breath, COPD grew mold in our chest and now speaks in pidgin…

  • Nest of leaves

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , , ,

    sun bleached bench pine cone nests on leaves you think maybe a squirrel has hidden it in plain sight or maybe it fell in the night and landed there like you fell in the night and landed here neither of you had control over the decision to exist and neither of you has control over…

  • Epsom salts

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    Sitting on the porch scalding my feet in Epsom salts. Rocking back and forth in an old chair. Lamenting the sacrifice of the tree. Wondering what other pieces were torn from its corpse. Does it mourn the loss of siblings living in other homes or that fell off the dock at the furniture store. Sitting…

  • Poem for a young friend

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    I sleep restless and sometimes dream about what I might have become, if I had taken the other path. That path still forks out before me, but I have grown content with this life and it no longer calls my name. Come, sit with me for coffee; we will listen for your name on the…

  • hope

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    yesterday, unable to wash the dirt of my youth from my skin I put on cologne and clean clothes and hope no one remembers who I was today, I do not recognize the face in the mirror or the voice that mumbles morning prayers I undress, step into the shower, towel off, put on cologne…

  • For Barb and Kathy

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    on an old green swingset, new to us, we launched ourselves so high in the sky It threatened to tip us backward in the grass we would fling ourselves towards the sun competing who could fly the furthest I used to win a lot maybe, it was because I did not fear the landing or…

  • —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    I used lie awake at night listening to trains wail in the distance and dream of running away to ride the rails to far off places Now I lie awake at night listening to trains wail in the distance but I’m too afraid to ride up under a train for fear I may fall 1-8-25

  • Phone calls with old friends

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    we speak of the approach of autumn the dimming light the struggle to gracefully hold on to the end of twigs before surrendering to the wind 8-25-2024

  • The restless somnambulist

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    one month from equinox cicadas go quiet days shorten Monday is Carol’s birthday Sunday some of our kids drive in for lunch scattered among five states we miss family gatherings this will have to do last night something was scratching outside our window, maybe a cat, a raccoon, I hope not a rat the older…

  • Bilbo’s lament

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Maybe it was a sense of power Maybe it was a sense of freedom Maybe it was just a childhood fantasy Riding Shadowfax into battle A fancy wizarding ring on your finger But the battles are not at your back door And it’s safer for an old man to ride a pony Through ancient, enchanted,…