and she does

there’s a railing to lean on

she holds on with both hands

the taste of power has left her mouth

she barely remembers the way

it danced on her tongue

who could have dreamed

things would end this way?

her bones are weightless

thinning with osteoporosis

her once shiny tresses

now dull and gray

her thoughts are heavy

she remembers when

he sealed the day with a kiss

making everything better than good

now the wind slaps her face

and the rain hides her tears

but there’s still that railing to lean on

and she does

with all her might

Reviews

[Lorry]

Beautifully captured, as always Lydi. But would knowing what is to come slow your any of us down within the journey?
Only the most sensible would refrain in childhood from running to the playground as you heard te Bell and run straight into the brick shed, built to keep us dry when it rained, which is a bit like saying every other day in Scotland and their only retort would have been to look where you are going?
I think if there was a choice I would choose the way it. Is, but perhaps to concentrate the pain down to just one second, because let's face it, dying will never be your first choice of favourite day, even without the pain.
And yes, if there is something to lean on, I lean and if there is somewhere to sit, I'll usually find a reason to, so why not take a seat and who knows, you might just find yourself sitting next to a moaning Scotsman wondering about where all the handrails went! 😊

[Lydia Shutter]

Lorry, your wit is outstanding....always. Thank you so much for your review. Lydi**

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this poem shows such power beyond the physical part of us which needs to hold hard to that handrail.
Her words are still so strong...she slaps the wind back and proudly blends her tears with the rain.
j.

[Lydia Shutter]

Thanks so much, Jacob. Lydi**

[Ken Simm.]

Our illutrious Prime Minister here in the UK during Covid, Boris Johnson has been reported as saying that the the older generations should hurry up and die and stop ruining the economy.
Makes you think if an idiot like him could say that during the official Covid enquiry. I find this poem so sadly beautiful. So many minds, so much experience, so much love, is still there and this poem see's it.

[Lydia Shutter]

Thank you so much, Ken. I remember when Johnson said that. His words cut like a knife! There is much to be learned from the seniors of our world. Lydi**

[DIVYA]

Dear Lydi,

Its the mortal body that decays. And we are so helpless, being bound to it. Being limited by it. We are forced to diminish and eventually vanish against our will. I wish good times never ended and youth was an eternal, golden meadow but we have no power to make our wish come true. Instead, we must face the cold, unforgiving harshness of the winter of our bodies and minds. We have a consolation though. Our spirits glow as eternal flames in a place not of our knowing. Perhaps, God designed it this way.

In a few words, you shook my soul. And the chosen picture speaks volumes about human existence. Thank you for sharing such moving poetry.

[Lydia Shutter]

Divya, your review has started off my day feeling wonderful. Indeed, the older we are, the more out spirits glow...and that glow makes the elderly beautiful! Thank you so much. Lydi**

[Matthew Kult]

A beautifully sad poem. It's so hard to lose someone. To have them for so long only to have to say goodbye.

Great read.

With love,

Matthew

[Lydia Shutter]

Thanks so much, Matthew. Lydi**