I wrote something last night in response to something much better from Stella but decided to give it a little life of its own for no better reason than to show you kind people that I am still here (or that some of me is) and to acknowledge the reality that one day I won’t be.
At an intersection
On the highway
My reflection
In the mirror
Not unfamiliar
Similar
To something weird
I feared
In my dreams
But could not understand
Because nothing is planned
Or foretold
Of getting old
This consequence
Of being born
Suddenly torn
Between turning the page
Acting my age
Or pretending
It’s not ending
And driving on
Through red lights
And dark nights
To find at last
My own past
Coming back
To greet me
Richmond Road 
Beautiful!! And haunting.
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great impact, well written!
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Its a sign of something I think when you realise your past is coming back to greet you.
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Absolutely amazing poetry!:) Thank you so much for your deeply wonderful response!:):) and for mentioning me on you awesome blog!:)
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I relate well to these thoughts, especially lately…a sign you think?
Sent from Yahoo Mail for iPad
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I’m afraid so.
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Everything ends where it begins doesn’t it? We can never escape ourselves. Great poem Richmond.
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Thank you. I sort of like the idea of a circle in this context. A lot of my life seems to have been spent trying to keep pace with myself – perhaps I should have turned around years ago and taken the shorter route …
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