Twilight

These wondrous pieces of oak, this floor,
Intrigue me as I shrivel by the fire. Winter's
Settled in, and, as it has, I've grown reflective.
Yes, with age, the range of competencies
Of the body shrinks. Such feebleness is widely
Known, but less acknowledged is the loss
Competencies of the mind: enthusiasm
Dies and joy evaporates. All life
Becomes mundane and colorless, and, worse,
It becomes purposeless. The days pass by,
Untouched. They have no use. What was to be
Done has been done, and, in the endless hours
Rendered idle by the body's weakness,
Coupled with the mind's decay, an old man
Hasn't much to do except sit by a fire
And reflect.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 31 times
Written on 2020-01-17 at 19:01

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