Poem – Mid-Life (By David Russell)

Mid-Life

 

So much happened;

So much didn’t –

So nice to remember;

So painful to recall

 

Now nothing is all,

The power to recall

Is an anaesthetic –

Past strength

Is pathetic.

 

In the middle,

What’s kept still here

What was and is gone,

What never was –

All levelled.

 

All comes to ground, abrades,

That’s nice and clear,

For retroaction blends fact

With pretence,

Solid in sense – incense.

 

Old channels must live anew.

 

[su_david_russell_speculum]