Saturday, September 29, 2012

Serene Senility

         Brenda Bryant



If only we could bear our scars as proudly as this tree,
And soldier on against all odds into senility!
It's felt the wind blowing harsh and strong and still it's stood erect;
It's felt the drought crisping at its toes and suffered the neglect.
It's known the rain and known the hail; it's been battered and been bruised;
The lightning's shivered round its limbs and it has felt misused.
It's wrinkled now and out of shape; the future's looking grim;
But like a banner it reveals its crude, misshapen limb.
Yet still it stands erect and proud, waving its crown of green.
As proud to be a part of life as it has ever been.
No Botox here, no magic creams, no startling cures for age,
For it accepts that senility is just another stage.


And do they have a conversation
As they sit here in the sun?
Two old friends who've been together
Since their working lives were begun?
Do they discuss the sitters
When they get up to leave,
And when some go never to return
Do the two seats ever grieve?
'We haven't seen Sarah lately;
I wonder if she's been ill.'
(Sarah never did return
And the seats are waiting still.)
Seeing them sitting face to face
Casting shadows on the fence
Gives them a strangely human air.
But they probably talk more sense!


Margaret Gosden said...

Yes, I like the sentiment here! But then, I do feel I am better off than many, and wonder if I would feel the same way if something irrevocable changed....

Dragonstar said...

A fine old tree - and a worthy rhyme!