Love Late in Life

 

"But the road is long

And hard burdened with regrets"
Han-Shan

 

 

Not in warm and easy summer

But a hard winter night to come,

When the fire is only embers

And frost curtains the windows,

When we've shared each other,

One glass, a bottle of wine,

And started on the second,

You will cover your breasts

With the blanket, look away,

And ask: Am I the life you want?

And when I hesitate to answer,

Too afraid of all that yes implies,

You will look at me, and understand.





Poetry by countryfog
Read 913 times
Written on 2012-11-30 at 16:34

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Melissa Ormond
A very sweet poem! Well written! Keep writing and smiling!:)
2012-12-22


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Let's hope. Written with your customary grace, Fog.
2012-12-02


Nils Teodor The PoetBay support member heart!
Very well written
Touches my heart
Thanks for sharing
N T
2012-12-01


shells
Beautifully honest and tender.
2012-12-01


Amy Valentina
Loving someone and being loved by someone always feels great. However, sometimes... most of the times... in (early love) the commitment needed to keep loving someone and sharing lives till the end seems such a difficult thing to do.
Your advice and the poem both are splendidly beautiful.
To love someone knowing all that love entails and keep loving that someone thru'out one's life is something that I would like to do as well.
Very warm and introspective.

LOL,
Amy
2012-12-01



It seems your poem is about having enough experience to know when regret may be an option, and to apply rationality to an inherently irrational process. I guess that's maturity.

Enjoy the moment.
2012-12-01


Lilly Negoi
this is...honestly i have no idea what would be the proper word to describe how i felt after reading this. it's true though that often the message lies not only in the words, but also in the spaces between words.
bookmarked!
2012-11-30


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
As we age we find that our needs change and our personal space, having been assaulted for far too long, is protected at the cost of sharing our most precious innocent selves with others suffering the same incompleteness. An extremely sensitive poem, Fog. It brings memories...
2012-11-30