My husband's poetry

Category: Aging

  • Retired

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    He sat in his front yard, retired Waved at every car that drove by, because Some he knew, some he thought he knew, Some he wanted to know Some he knew he didn’t know, but It made him laugh to think They went to work and tried All day to remember how they knew him…

  • 4 poems on 1-22-23

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , , ,

    01/22 – today is a day for reading and daydreams and capturing short unnamed snippets of poems that swirl around me #1 A young boy never sees a tree he doesn’t want to climb in his neighbor’s yard, the county courthouse grounds, grandma’s house, the gorilla enclosure at the zoo An old man looks for…

  • Do

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Something in me always says I don’t have time to read the READERS WRITE section of Sun magazine so I pass over it. It must be some childhood trigger which causes me to do this so I continue to do this every month. It’s a habit and I don’t care. _____ When I get to…

  • Cassie’s hat

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , , , ,

    sunrise, thirty degrees, take your blood pressure meds and crawl back in bed 9 am, put on Cassie’s hat, grab coffee in a blue cup and walk to the park watch mallards rush to safety on the other side of the pond as you approach return from the park, your father’s voice demands to know…

  • Contemplating a biking lifestyle

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    by

    cfblack
    in

    Some days you think you might join a cycling club, take up riding a bike, again. But form fitting biking shorts make your butt look scrawny and your penis too small, Lycra pinches your testicles, Spandex jerseys slide up exposing your pot belly, and it’s hard to text while riding into a headwind. 9-10-22

  • untitled

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    I want to live to be two hundred, hidden away in some old folks’ home, dragged out on my birthday to pose for social media. A dried up old prune nobody really knows; no cherished memories of me taking them for walks, candy in my pockets to share away from their mothers’ prying eyes. Just…

  • Night stand

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    I saw an article about the planning of the funeral for the queen of England and she’s not yet dead. And I thought funerals are for the living, the almost living, the almost dead; survivors or rather temporary survivors filing past a casket or urn sitting on a night stand dressed up with an embroidered…

  • among rocks

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    run without restraint into the wilderness without the limp of insults to this body sit among rocks – comforted and comfortable watching for stray dogs and feral cats to see where they run, where they go where they find shelter from the rain 8-23-22

  • an overdue poem for a friend

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    How long did the tree stand stoic and strong before the crack, the fall, the thud, the tearing at surrounding trees on its way to ground? If I knew today was your day to fall, would I have come the day before stand next to your trunk or climb up and sit awkwardly in your…

  • Birthdays

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    The last day of winter sits forlorn Next to first day of spring On our kitchen wall Only twenty four hours older But no one celebrates its coming They aren’t that much different And some years Winter looks better than spring 7-24-22