Dedicated to my mom and daddy.
My Old Clothes
I'm wearing my old clothes
The ones with which I was born.
They are in need of repair.
The sheen has faded.
The cloth has grown thin and it's torn.
I'll darn up the holes
And stitch a new hem
Make some alterations
Add adornments to the bodice.
If nothing else, I'll just pretend
That I am still me
Looking out through these eyes.
For my soul never ages
But my body, these clothes,
Most assuredly dies.
Yet, as I am still living
Sheltered inside a body of work
I'll continue to laugh as a child
Anticipating the gift of each day
In my old clothes, undeterred.
Poetry by Kathy Lockhart
Read 1147 times
Written on 2019-04-01 at 19:29
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Bibek |
Wumbulu |
jim |
josephus |
Jamsbo Rockda |
Marie Cadavieco |
shells |
Lawrence Beck |