Conversations On Old Age

The muscles flexed like wings for flight I saw fell down from heaven like light The trees shook Off their callous demure, grew gold green My masked look Came where adoration feathered preen The cold pride that risked my life The risks that gave me strength in youth Disappeared in conformance too rife And I risk done, for old age turned to soot Undone by trusting to be secure The man becomes impotent like the child before ii Some will not see old age in anything Except to know dying leaves are gold And a drying river seems like a spring Dead winter too as white innocense unfold Some will not understand metaphors still Deeper pearls in images of hard shells The sun gives life and same time does kill But nothing alive deters the cycled knells For we conform and then we fall apart To believe is where the beginnings start iii Winter hairs atop the head, and winter beard That even in the sun will not melt. This tree Has no green leaf left to show for life. Seered By the cold barren branches faking all glee Replaced their groans with creaking songs Death is kind, it is old age that's glum and gloomy I fear its frightening, and unfumbling fangs The little niche of hole to a world so well and roomy. iv Bones leak like roofs, and no rain yet To moist the scales of the crinkling skin The joy of today is to forget Memory has no next of kin. I go beyond the end of the line to write My children in meaning after my tongue Still against the forlorn night Cleave leaves for specks of dew soft hung. v I have opened hibiscus for your tongue To bird hum and suck Its honey out among Shrivelling stamens sagging into muck I gave you light that may understand this Lapse of petals dried Fantasizing for a kiss A mouth that left the flesh mob crucified All this roar of dreams and desires vain This birth to know, fell From grace, grows pain Man's life, the eager urge of empty shell.