Old age
moved them
further away in time
where they lost themselves
hidden beneath wrinkles
and medicines and blankets.
Then death
moved them all the way
to that brighter place,
where they could begin again,
but I was left here to mourn them.
I suppose all of life
is about moving...
away from some things too soon
or forward before we're ready.
They came to say goodbye today;
I felt them move from my heart
They must know I can
finally bare their absence.
I guess it must be time...
for me to move on too.
interesting metaphor and vivid imagery as the picture fades
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is moving... and I'm 50 in 3 days... aging.... aging! Please keep posting.... your very good! r.