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Morning Glory
by Glenn CurrierJust as the morning glory wilts
in the afternoon sun, I wilt
in the face of awesome need
and my own frailty.
I tire. The cellular soup
that is my old body
creaks upon rising
protests years of too much alcohol
too many cookies and donuts
to little exercise.
But still I get up.
In slower measured gait
I walk into my family
into my work
into the embrace
of morning glory.
Like a butterfly supping on
pink impatiens' nectar
my gratitude fills my wings.
I flutter my freedom
disturbs the air
imperceptible to the universe
but oh how I flutter!
09/02/2007 Posted on 09/02/2007
Copyright © 2025 Glenn Currier
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 09/02/07 at 03:52 PM You take me to places I know, but add a poetic beauty. Thank you. |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 09/03/07 at 11:42 PM Aging gets to us regardless of abuse or lack there of! That we must persevere and can do it with elegance -- "I flutter my freedom disturb the air". |
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