Notes About The Poem

Age Spots

God shifts his weight and half an oak remains.
One soul must die; another life retains. 
I stand a little shaky now.
raise my hand, put drops in my eye, 
A sort of palsy visits me
I let the blood sport play, yet wonder why
pause until I am no longer faint. 
At times my body fools me, like wet paint.
I accept it as a debt I must repay, 
for all the times I treated it that way.
cruel in action, abusive with indulgence,
careless or discourteous, ignoring common sense.
nonchalant, often asleep behind the wheel
Now time for me to touch my age with far less zeal.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace