My feet have slowed—
my eye measures distance
and my mind weighs

the importance of moving
as I withdraw
from all the magic

flashing the horizon
like explosions
of another war

that will not wound me,
fatally. This time
is mine to spend,

frugally. Summer sighs
into September shadows
as I wait for storms

to wash the outside
world clean away.
Too old to play football

or politics anymore,
I hear colors sing
without a score.


8 responses to “LIVING COLOR

  1. Beautiful!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Finally, we’re seeing things for real . . . Nice!


  3. I think everyone needs to learn to spend our time frugally. It is finite, after all. “I hear colors sing without a score.” is a superb ending. The play on the word score is lovely.


  4. I swear, your poetry just gets better and better, John. So beautiful. So poignant.



    • Thank you, Louise. You know what they say about a blind pig, every once in a while it finds an acorn. I can’t claim it all, the words often come from somewhere else.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.