So Curious...

A bit of wondering...

Why does life have a way of shrinking a man
Why age-wrinkled necks look like turtle skin
Why spend so much time in memory land
Why what makes things stand out so often…
Is the sameness within

Why happiness can be so arduously earned
Yet sadness so freely given
Why the wind thumps the side
of tents at night…As if  wishing
to be allowed within

Why faces in portraits seem
To follow one about…
While visages in old photographs
Seem to beg
for remembrance

Why some expressions
In their open emotions
Leave no doubt…
And others plainly proffer
Neither pain
nor penance

Why do we find life
…So inscrutably curious…

Author's Note

to some this could be a bit pretentious, but that's the way I swing!

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i find this a very well expressed journey into age...i feel it coming myself, but this reminds me much more of my dad...he has a great memory for the old days...he can discuss years ago easily...his early childhood, career etc. but yesterday is a blur...so you hold onto what ever it is you've got.

[Marie]

People were made to be curious, as they were made to be creative. Some are mre imaginative than others. I have never felt faces in portraits following me about; they sensibly stay where they are.

I spend as little time remembering as possible.

And no time at all in tents.

[David O Whalen (O Haolin in Celtic)]

Ah I beg to differ!! You've been intense many times! (Thanks for reading me Marie, appreciate it!)

[Marie]

I forgot "in tents" could be taken two ways (and I still try not to be.)