Truly something to ponder, a timely meditation for the baby boomers among us.
Pronouns indicate this features the more multi-task oriented females among us. Pity the poor male with only the ability to focus on one thing at a time. Confusion multiplies.
For lovers of poetry, this is food for thought; my boss is one of them and I wanted to call this to her attention.
This is a selection I will offer participants in a discussion group that studies poetry in the context of English as a Foreign Language. Each of the first three sections describes a horror that seniors might face. It will be interesting in my cross-cultural context classroom to get participant reactions.
I’ll give them the fourth section which deals less with the individual, she is resigned. It shifts focus to society’s regret.
A super serious piece of contemplation for a care-free Friday.
“With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones,”—W.B. Yeats
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wisdom is silenced behind sterile walls
while entertaining the reaper’s minions
attended by strangers with vapid intentions
sedated, benumbed by cruel inattention
wisdom is hidden ‘neath thin sheets of flesh
draped loosely on frames of sinew and bone
dull synapsed grey matter turning slowly to stone
pebbles of acumen dribbled softly in moans
wisdom remembers the lessons of youth
often repeating her tales of the past
the din of tweets twittering, rife media blasts
soon drown out her treasure, precious pearls vainly cast
wisdom is lingering, time’s running short
fools claim she’s crazy; that they can’t relate
in fluorescent lit hallways she patiently waits
one day they might miss her, but it will be too late
For Jane Dougherty’s “A Month with Yeats” poetry challenge – Day 3. I don’t know what…
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