Age Poem by Michael Ardizzone

Age



Getting older:
So fast leaves grow
from bud to stem
they unfold, awaiting
glorious sunlight.

Getting older:
Foolish flowers
dawdle in the wind.
They wait,
ignorant of time.

Getting older:
Smells are stronger now.
A girl's summer dress
bellows in a clear, crisp wind,
the girl beneath is ready.

Getting older:
The wind carries the scent of rain.
The earth's a gouty knee
that God has forgotten.

Getting older:
Everything is much clearer
but my tongue can't
give it voice.

Getting old:
The stars shine brightly as ever
but my knees cannot lift me to them
like before.

Getting old:
But all the lights are so much brighter-
a driving rain shatters their brightness
into a million specks.

Getting-
dead leaves whirl in the autumn air.
The sky opens up with a crack of thunder.

Getting-
away from this earth,
where knives of lightning
and the hammer of thunder cannot touch,
there is only blackness.

Get
into that black-
it's so warm and dry
I can't

resist

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