Jump to content


A walking living poem

Posted by markdohle , 23 March 2014 · 285 views

A walking living poem

I woke up last night very early on,
or was it late?  

Poems in my head scripting themselves
or so it seems.

Filled with images of people, and colors,
of life and death, swirling in order
though with no rhyme.

Lord, where do our poems go,
our writings and paintings,
our thoughts written down in many tomes,
do they just end up forgotten forever?

I saw an old lady yesterday Lord,
bent over she looked to be 200,
going up the stairs with her trusty cane
into an office of some sort,
dressed in a bright, glowing, running outfit,
in screaming red.

Wow, she looked so cool!!

She was a poem in motion,
of life and hope and “to hell with being old”;
I will not wear purple because I am getting on,
but I will put on yelling, loud, happy, youthful red!!!!

This walking, living poem of life,
embracing old age and her desire for more being,
what will happen to this living, moving poem,
made in your image and likeness?

Will she boogie for you her soul aflame with love
and so red that all the reds ever known
would not compare to her beauty.

This woman, your daughter, this beautiful creature,
perhaps always a child in your eyes,
at her beginning still as she moves towards here demise…..

Will she dance for you?