Twilight Years Poem by Anita Sehgal

Twilight Years

Rating: 5.0

It is the evening of his life.

He sits on an isolated bench
And stares with empty eyes at the barren park.

Where no flowers bloom
No children play.

The gaunt branches of the trees
reach out as blank eyes of the dead.

A lonely sliver of a moon hangs low in the sky.

Slowly the darkness settles in …

The stirrings in his heart move out to connect
but come back desolate and forlorn.

Long gone his soulmate.

None awaits him at home..

How long, how long
before it comes..?

Simon Collins 24 May 2012

Absolutely beautiful imagery Anita, thanks

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Valsa George 03 December 2012

A moving picture of the desolate evening of life, so full of pathos! !

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Om Chawla 25 October 2012

'The stirrings in his heart move out to connect but come back desolate and forlorn', how poignant and the pathos is aptly summed up in last two lines; ' long, before it comes' Very touching. Incidently I may mention that I had taken your inward looking poem 'Delusion Ensnares' and more contemporaneous Once as my favourites.

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Walterrean Salley 05 August 2012

A universal experience. Thus, this poem touches the heart of many who can readily identify with its powerful message. Very touching. Great images. Well penned.

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Saadat Tahir 25 May 2012

painful touching lines..... nice.........liked the poem

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R.k Das 25 May 2012

very poignant... it hurts..

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