Growing Old #2
By Jane Tawel
January 24, 2017
Time runs fluid through my brain, my heart, all that make up my soul’s being.
Like a sluice, the years line up
Impeding very little Time’s rushing waves
Flowing toward the Future
Where I will not float.
And I gaze ahead with one hand on The Shore,
The memories drifting ever so slowly
Sometimes like snowflakes
Sinking to the bottom of my dreams.
Dreams that I wade in searching for meaning to my years whether
Waking or sleeping or half awakesleep or asleepwake,
Small parts of me still awkwardly
While more and more
I long to swim Ashore
and play in the
Of my stagnant world.