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Stop the Clock - I want to get on
by Alison McKenzieThe hands of that reckless monster
Sweep around as if there is no tomorrow;
Hours blurring into daysweeksmonthsyears.
Suddenly its 2004,
And I wasnt ready to begin a new milenium!
I find yesterdays succulent leaves,
Drying, ready to fall from the tree -
Im not prepared to let them go.
They quiver, clinging in quiet desperation,
Their fate to turn to dust,
As someday will I.
I watch my children, young adults all,
Forging new paths,
Stumbling over some of the same stones
I meant to roll out of the way.
Soon enough my grandchildren will join the mix.
I consider my own grandmother,
Wits dulling in what must be the dusk of her winter,
Frustrated she cant remember the Mayor of Houston in 1958.
Beautiful, still, though she cant see -
Sharp and fresh, yet fragile
So fragile now
Taking note of the seasons swirling all around me,
I vow in this moment
To inhale the wholeness,
To love the blessings in the wind.
07/09/2004 Posted on 07/09/2004
Copyright © 2025 Alison McKenzie
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alastre Zidler on 07/09/04 at 03:32 PM Completely fascinating and spoken with no pretentions. Your words come out in a natural, melodic flow. I know precisely the feeling you speak of in these lines, the inevitible march of time... Satisfying read! |
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