Crone
An withered crone in a park
where the young play.
Her eyes are deep set
but the blue within them is clear.
Her flesh clings to crooked bones,
yet she is a vision
there among the youthful,
a message for all those
who will overcome.
She’s foreshadowing, an augury
that we all must, in the end,
survive ourselves
with a formidable and life well lived.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.