His smile brightens the fridge door
a person dearly missed
contemplate his often-spoken syllables
"Getting bored, getting bored",
snatched away on the threshold of nineties
bored a term, I fear.
Idleness is
creative to garner new interests
slow moving for the sick and solitary
challenging for the insecure loners
scary if seeks self-pity as an alias.
A homemaker by label
lots of spare moments nestle in
few vacant stares a day a required lull
incalculable gazes
brews cynical threats
Scares me for negativity starts
its chant of perfection.
Persistent irrigation for cultivated
interests
poetry one of the few
Sudoku, music, tutoring, exercise
the other companions of the day.
On the doorway to sixties
my smile corresponds to his smile
I may exceed his age some day
hope I conquer the inescapable
with enthusiastic pursuits.
No comments:
Post a Comment