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the young cause shivers
by Charlie Morganhis bent back was strained
as though holding up the sky.
he wrestled with each twitch,
grumbled a year's worth of words
in every look, every neck-turn.
soon, he knew he'd gather no more;
and sadly, he'd be without a title,
a body, too soon without a memory.
as in the road ahead he saw Youth
in its long, laughing strides.
he had visions so vodka-clear
in his hey-day and now, a blur.
as his uvea became dry shellac
and stained all his future years
with a golden, honeydewed jacket.
12/30/2007 Posted on 12/30/2007
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 12/30/07 at 11:24 PM I can't decide if seeing everything with a "golden, honeydewed jacket" is a bad thing or not. Maybe we can only escape these shadows by walking above then, to the mountain top by faith...and that takes time, and life's wisdom. Thanks Chazman. |
| Posted by Michelle Angelini on 12/30/07 at 11:51 PM Chaz, it's clear who this poem is about, cleverly hidden in between the lines. It wasn't until I reached the end that I realized it. Then, I let out a bit of a sarcastic laugh. The tide might well turn...
~Chelle~ |
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