Old and Cold
I lean beside a furrowed willow tree,
with threadbare limbs downcast
as I recall a meadow of youth's game--
now my belly, bones are empty,
falling weary from old age and distant
cold orange pulsating starlight.
5/25
Copyright © Banjo Casto | Year Posted 2016
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