Over the Hill

from the perspective of an aged man looking in the mirror; his musings have an air of finality

The bell tolls, distant

and I awaken, the taste of eighty odd years

 clinging to my breath

aches with the weight of a long

and arduous existence; I have prayed, I have wept, I have smiled,

I have lived.

and after it all, there is only

borrowed time, minutes of careful yet hurried rumination

on possibilities now made

impossible

the breadth and width of Time stretches out

like the desert, now dry and everlong.

Once I was able to move entire

dunes with my sheer will

now I can only struggle to

push mere sand grains.

Existence is a sort of cruel humor like that.

Shuffling across the apathetic hallway

I flip a switch, and observe.

The harsh yellow light accentuates every

wrinkle, every crease, every narrow carving etched by the years

and as I stare into mine own eyes every

hour every day every week every month every year every decade every stage of life now

lived.

I have hated

    I have loved

I have journeyed

 

and I will rest.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

We are all on a journey and this one is in the twilight years. A life well lived I would say. Much wisdom in these words and I was constantly aware of the sands running quickly through that hour glass. Well penned.

Chris

[Donna]

I love every word of this poem. You wrote a great one!

[Coyote Poetry]

Good wisdom in your words.
"I have hated
I have loved
I have journeyed
and I will rest."
Above lines are the journey for the all of us. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[no.cristeaux]

Thank you for the excellent review! Much appreciated, Coyote.

k.k.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome.