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age, a separator

by Charlie Morgan

a walking stick carried him along;
the swift gait, a picture of movement
of years ago, now more blurred.
near still.

he followed his next step, third leg
reached out in front, guiding his stride;
knee cartilage, now a historical shrine.
ankles whimper too.

a symphony of creaking bones, used sinew,
accompany each struggling stride, steps:
a challenge of achievment; excelling:
the bench at the top.

a dinosaur's lifetime is the escalator;
the step-teeth of the floating sidewalk:
that of a 67 million year old T-Rex.
devouring old men.

youth passes him by, no notice of concern;
he is fulfilling his role: aged: ergo languishing.
and the button on his hearing aid--useless.
he cares not to hear.

09/23/2008

Posted on 09/23/2008
Copyright © 2024 Charlie Morgan

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Alison McKenzie on 09/23/08 at 10:30 PM

Wow, how you captured this idea!!! I love your perspective, but then I've said that before. There are other things that are separators, too, like weight, but that's another poem.

Posted by Glenn Currier on 10/16/08 at 11:17 PM

mother of pearl! i'm tryin to picture it - saw Jay H. recently - wondered about that third leg - old and well used but no longer listening.... you do capture the experience of declining cartelage and inclining discomfort. good one, my friend... i relate...

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