July 17, 2015

In My Extreme Age


In my extreme age --
In my age extreme --
Skin planed to glassine,
Bone buffed to crystal,
Light locked in the marrow,
And memory melded to images only....

In my extreme age --
In my age extreme --
Thoughts thinned to one
And dreams dimmed to soul;
To that one shred of thread
Which stitches the shroud

Of my extreme age --
In my age extreme.

In that age extreme,
That extreme edge of age,
There shall still
In such stillness
Sing in my deaf ears
One echo of now;

Your echo of now.
And your echo shall glimmer
On that river that streams
Through time’s silted canyons
Of my extreme age --
In my age extreme.

Photo of 100 year old hands by Algo

Posted by Vanderleun at July 17, 2015 12:32 AM
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"It is impossible to speak in such a way that you cannot be misunderstood." -- Karl Popper N.B.: Comments are moderated and may not appear immediately. Comments that exceed the obscenity or stupidity limits will be either edited or expunged.

A gift. Truly lovely.

Posted by: Joan of Argghh! at July 17, 2015 4:08 AM

Ah, you make me weep; but for a change it is a good weep.

Posted by: MOTUS at July 17, 2015 2:15 PM

My grandmother introduced me to Tennyson many years before she died. I'll always love her for that among many other beautiful memories of her.

On her death bed she whispered to me, "Hey, I'm still in here".

Posted by: Denny at July 17, 2015 2:42 PM

Damn, those hands look like mine. And I'm not 100. Not a good sign.

Posted by: Jimmy J. at July 17, 2015 7:59 PM