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lives lived by one
by Charlie Morganthese days will be called good old days, one day.
our kids will be hanging on to the old gloves, bats.
as their life skids along on the new tracks lain
by the sludge and sweat of the generations before
they will pass on, through my life, others too.
arriving one day, they will scan the world anew;
proclaim there's something missing, look for youth;
the elixir of age, repairer of lost, broken souls.
and announce the finding of true love, friendship.
when will we ever learn? when will we ever learn?
as love jostles in the back of a rickety Conestoga
suffering sun, wind and the weather of daily travels,
turns over and toasts on the other side of midnight;
looking for something we've lost, lost the firm hold
that lasted so long. 'so long' is what we say to her.
youth: a small stream but the current is raucous, swift.
08/08/2008 Posted on 08/08/2008
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 08/08/08 at 03:27 PM Nice wtite Charlie! I have no doubt that we spend far too much time looking backward or forward instead of looking at what we are currently envolved in today. Everything looks so much better from a distance. |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 08/08/08 at 03:53 PM The young always believe they are reinventing how to live, what to feel during the experience. And, just like we did (their parents), they discover it's the same circle gone 'round again and again with little variation. Some good stuff here! |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/08/08 at 08:04 PM So true, so true. Nice one, Charlie. |
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