The Click of a Lock

 

The spots on my skin

begin to form

as feet ache

and grow numb

My joints aren't in their twenties

anymore

anymore

will there be anymore

as my father used to say

old age is not for sissies

but I am a sissy

at least to that generation

and perhaps

a few here and now

My eyes must have

their reading lenses installed

pulled from their black case

whenever I can't see

the wrinkles on my hands

to remind me once again

that anymore

is this day

with it's sun

as it creates trapezoids

on the green carpet

While winter approaches

I listen to music

only I hear

as it passes through my heart

my empty heart

that ages with each

empty day

as I wait

for the only moment

that will complete it

 

the sudden note

of the lock on the door

through which I can't return

Copyright © 2013 by Barry G. Wick