Dying Wisdom

With greying hairs
now dotting
more frequently
the mirror glance -
and aches and
pains that more
readily creak on
winter mornings
as frost rises in the air -

Comes the realization
that perhaps the
future is a place of
fear and hope -
bereft of youthful
naïveté that fails
to see the weight
of responsibility
that gnaws away -
worrying deep into
the marrow of life.

Sickness - health
and hazy recollection
of dreams spun
with gossamer, silken
thread of wishful hope -
which now seems fancy
and foolish and vain

And gives pause to
the question of
whether to continue
on into the night.

© Eleanor Clark
22 December 2013