(February 5,1951 / Little Rock, Arkansas United States of America)

When We're Old And Done

When we're old and done

How will our love feel? Will we be

Anxious, afraid we missed out on

What we could have done? Afraid of

Looking back and feeling like dry sand?

Life seems funny and meaningful when the people

Around us are younger and we, unwittingly

We become authorities on living

They say that we know how it is done

We say we must curtail our consciousness

Give it up for raw being.

They thank us

For our presence at the table.

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Comments (6)

Such a beautiful poem spun together out of childhood memories. Heartiest congratulations Mary for a well deserved place.
First of all Congratulations to be chosen as the Member Poem Of The Day by Poem Hunter and his Team, WOW! A very cozy content about the wedding and the occurrences. Imagining Grandmother playing Mendelsohn at the weddings....A sweetest memory together with your beloved sister, how loveliest moments you memorize. I have enjoyed very much this enchanting poem, Mary Angela, G.B.U. in Abundance. Amen.
In the first line! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
And more threads are enwoven: The roses FOAM in the woods at night, and their petals PEEL like PAGES from your shelves. Your sister kept the thread of stories (or music) like LACE, which evokes church dresses, and your vision of the OTHER SIDE features both of you in lacey dresses...so far back you've arrived in a future Heaven..
Lovely anecdote about your sister jumping up to comfort you at the performance. These remembered moments are reflections of eternity, retrieved from a swift-passing current and treasured...yet never frozen, because they form a shimmering constellation. I see traces of interweaving everywhere...going FARTHER BACK in the woods, and in the fairy tale, and in the music, where GOLDEN PATHS WERE OPENED. When you go farther back on the paths, you begin to think God was in that quality of light.
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