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Thursday, January 28, 2010

HOLDING HANDS


is awkward now, for the both of them,
out without their son, she complains
about how her joints ache, how his
wedding ring hurts as they hold hands.

They keep on going, thinking about
how they used to always walk like this.
From the corner of his eye, she looks
like that young girl he found in college.

But they’re both older now, changed.
White hairs on his chin far outnumber
the brown, the red, the blonde ones.
They keep walking, into another bookstore.

8 comments:

TaunaLen said...

Wow... this strikes a nerve. Awkward indeed. Happy birthday, and thanks for the poet recommendation on Twitter. I found some new friends to follow.

CathM said...

All the best with your new teaching career. Enjoy the ride and adventure:)

WELCOME TO MY WORLD OF POETRY: said...

A lovely poem Lorenzo, a single tear went down my cheek, Why you may ask?
Alas my husband didn't even reach sixty so didn't make "Old age".
Nonetheless I enjoyed the read.

Yvonne.

WR said...

Tender. Time catches all of us. Sounds as life is being rewarding if busy. Will look forward to you occasional post! :)

Patricia A. Hawkenson said...

I am in the same teacher, poet, parent, spouse place that you live in. Yes, I totally get it! I have felt the guilt of not being there for all the people who seem to need or want a piece of your creativity. There will never be enough. Give what you can, save what you must, and breathe.

Greeneyezz said...

A very nice poem. The photo that you included is a perfect match for it.

I've noticed you haven't been around on twitter as much. Sounds like you're keeping busy with the new teaching career. Kudos! :)

And don't worry about not posting frequently here. Write for yourself Lorenzo, not for us. Write for yourself.

:)

~ZZ

Susanne49 said...

I like the picture to this great poem, Lorenzo. The two old people you are describing, could be almost my hubby and I...*smile*...

Kay said...

always a way with words, you touch my heart...