Old Age – Modified Third Draft

This is just a quick reordering of the third draft with the last two stanzas swapped.  I think I’ll do a more thorough rewrite to try some different phrasing and work that back into this picking out the best parts.  I’ll also need to refocus the poem.

Grouped around him,
an homage to his perceived widsom,
they prattle on
about the interveining
days,
weeks,
years.

He listens as though hearing fails,
The tellings filtered through a gauze
time wrapped about his mind.

It’s been long
since they were afforded
opportunity, such as this,
to sit and regale each other,
fervently summarize
ever important lives;
judge their successes
and failures
against a familiar tapestry.

Thoughts interject…
thoughts of what was
and could have been;
About her;
smiling up at him,
cradled newborn suckling,
sleepily radiating wonder
and love.

They drone on,
occasionally breaking his reverie
with sharply annunciated questions;
Near Screams.
Pats on the leg
ensure his attention
on the moment,
not the past.

Winks and knowing looks
pass back and forth,
an acknowledgement of wit
and delicacy, and tact so necessary
for dealing with the aged and enfeebled
An affront to a strong mind
in a worn shell.

How long?
Who could remember,
heartache spans time
so effortlessly

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