Ninety Three


Your harsh, deep voice echoed,

From your inner boldness.

Permeates unto the air;

The language of your masculinity.

Forceful. Powerful.

The sharp look of your eye

Penetrates deep into my soul.

You charge with dominance,

That assertion and supreme command

“See what happens when you get old?”  

“Don’t get old!”

Such a valid excuse; the block of your recollection.

And in my meekness, I submit.

Tea or Coffee and Melody.

A perfect remedy, it soothes your agitation.

And when you close your eyes, I hear you even louder.

Then the blink… reveals that confusion.

You gaze empty unto space.

Speechless. Startled.

You gather that roaring thunder sound from your memory.

“Where’s my car?” “Do I live here?”

Neither can you satisfy,

To quench the thirst of your own query;

Nor can I proffer the right response.   

I can only desire to be as wise as you are;

For that language you silently express,

Somehow, I am able to comprehend.

Yet never in my full understanding, I may apprehend.

Something beyond deeper; the searching from your quiet interior;

The rhythm of chapters from your past;

Nine decades and three, of your life line.

In your Wisdom, Someone…

Bared witness, that subtle perplexity inside you,

I am the only One.

(Copyright.NinetyThree.2017.All Rights Reserved)

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