| General Poetry
posted September 2, 2024 |
A poem
These Old Bones
These old bones writing this verse.
Could be better, could be worse.
There is youth before the page.
Beyond the leaf, I show my age.
These old bones behind youthful skin.
Have so much memory of movement within.
But soon that is all it will be.
As time puts a stop to them indefinitely.
These old bones in a suit of meat.
Hold their own, won't admit defeat.
There is life in the old dog yet.
In a few years, he might need a vet.
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