Friday, December 17, 2010

On Growing Older

harbors of time

on fear we are 
fused as one
to twig beauty 
as centuries brittle 
our bones

through fading eyes 
clarity is ferried on 
memories cached in 
harbors of time 

and into sunset 
we shield our faces
as temptress light 
teases horizons 

just beyond our 

Poem © 2010 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2008 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo taken by R.Baker along the Hudson River just north of the George Washington Bridge, 2008. 


  1. Rick,

    That first stanza has real economy, a punch to it!

    The idea of nagging fear of dissolution, the not immediately apparent disintegration of what looks on the surface as holding and holding well.

    But the strength in the idea is the concision of the words, most in monosyllables potent on one another.

    And "twig beauty" !!!


  2. rick when father flies away, the door opens to a sense of self as older. i have found that. it's comforting and good. it's a place i'm good with because old can be a beginning place for tremendous goodness. steven

  3. TF: In my case, you're probably correct: The surface belies what I know and feel to be the painful truth! In my mind, 25. In my "not immediately apparent disintegration", 57. Ouch!

    Steven: I will welcome that place you have found. Not sure I'm there yet. But I appreciate your serenity and wonderment of life. It's apparent through your writing, art, and words of encouragement.


  4. thoughtful as usual
    I think Steven has discovered the secret
    old can be a beginning place..i so like that
    But who defines old?
    If you feel 25...go for it
    I rather like horizons..there is excitement there

  5. Suz, I believe Steven has embraced life, and "later" life earlier than some of us. It will serve him and those he touches well. I am starting to sense some comfort in this thing called late middle age, and I'm sure there is much joy in the relinquishing of all that drive and ambition that gives us angst during our younger years. Not that we can't have dive and ambition as we age, but I think it's much more focused, and given more purpose in our later years.

    That focus, to Steven's point, is in that "beginning place for tremendous goodness."

  6. I love twig beauty. My dear 93 year old grandfather reminded me so much of a lovely twig just before his death.

  7. my grandma lived to 83.
    lovely thoughts on aging..
    beautiful poetry.

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