We’ve got a bit of an impromptu blog hop going on.
I follow Christine Campbell’s blog. She just posted a poem about aging and yet not aging called “I Look in the Mirror.”
Her inspiration was “Shadows of Youth,” a post by Yobial Marin, a blogger Christine follows. Yobial reminds us that those with the experience of years have much to teach us, if we can overcome our own fear of mortality long enough to pay attention.
Christine’s poem inspired me to post this poem, which originally appeared in the Southern Indiana Writers Group’s anthology DRAGON: OUR TALES.
The next move, dear reader, is yours.
by Marian Allen
I was a tender maid,
muscles firm, eyes bright.
my skin is wrinkled leather
covered with rough white scales.
I make noise walking;
my body large, unwieldy.
And do I guard my treasure?
Hoard it with bitter jealousy,
gloating, pinning it firmly
beneath my reddened claws?
We spoke those words
of brightest power and the spell
began. The decades of enchantment
ended when the life of the enchanter
See what I have become.
And what is left but treasure?
Coin, jewels, artifacts, remembrances
still warm from the enthrallment,
charming my heart to holocaust,
burning my eyes with salt.
Dim are the eyes of my reflection,
smoke-dim from the flame
that burns inside,
as once the flame consumed
the tender maid.
If you’re inspired to post an essay, short story, picture, or poem on the topic, do so; link back to us and leave your link on our blogs in the comments. 🙂
A WRITING PROMPT FOR YOU: age