Their days are very much the same
Like soldiers marching to the drum
The cadence of the ticking clock
Marking time as each day passes
They wrap themselves in memories
Replayed like notes of a well known song
Steps slowed by the weight of years
Their candles growing short
We look at them but do not see
We listen without hearing
They are but shadows in our minds
Close but yet so distant
But if we were to look inside
We would find ourselves
Sharing needs that transgress age
And values that are timeless
They are the you of days gone by
Their life then still in bloom
The taste and thrill of love and life
Now just footprints on their hearts
And as their many seasons grow
And their autumn becomes winter
Who will mourn and say goodbye
When their soul meets its tomorrow
Inspired by volunteering at a nursing home and watching the deterioration of body and mind.
Today,
The beggar woman on the corner held a sign that said:
"Dance Teacher, laid off, anything helps."
And in the 60 seconds my car sputtered indignantly beside her,
I watched the feral lines in her face
I imagined her skin was soft, and unobtrusively without confession
Swaddled in a thin gray sweater,
I romanticize,
That she threw this on, as she walked into the sharp Autumn air
Veiled in a gleaming burst of creativity.
Her body warm from her feet dragging across the floor
To the songs I secretly like
I ponder shamefully
How many pliés, and twirls and graceful arches with her arms
were made before tripping onto this corner?
Gossiping mouths of freeway on-ramps
That become our living rooms, kitchens and halls.
I love her anyway
When spectators throw dollar bills instead of roses
Out of cocoons
that smell of white mochas
Can we be
Can we be the rocks in the pool
At the start of the day when the sun is cool
Can we be the babbling stream
That bathes the land and reflects the sunbeam
Can we be the leaves in the trees
The autumn wind that brings the breeze
Can we be the waves on the shore
That cleans the beaches with a mighty roar
Can we be that beautiful view
The picture that reminds me of you
Can we be the voice of the bird
That sings so sweetly but utters not a word
Can we be the notes in a song
That touches the heart and make us belong
Can we be at the end of the day
When people rest and animals play
Can we be the twinkle in the star
That shines so brightly from afar
Can we be the sea and the sky
Can we be together you and I
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.