Trite Truths

The hand
of the past
always rests
on my shoulder,
releases
a shuddering chill
through my skin.

My cold companion
with haunting eyes
is a forever companion,
but today’s warm sun
thaws him
a bit more
each day.

 

===

Now that I’ve written this, maybe I’ll write something good.

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3 thoughts on “Trite Truths

  1. Life is a learning experience, I feel like myself of the past was a different person sometimes, less experienced, less focused, making mistakes and then just moving on. Less caring. Today I feel wiser, stronger, more caring, more open to love. That’s a natural progression, I think, of age. The older we get the more caring we become, and the colder our pasts appear. That is a true and very evident nature of life. It’s exemplified by all these scam artists, like fly-by-night televangelists, who prey on the elderly’s compassion. Your very precise, very profound short poem touched on that caring nature so beautifully. I think you are a very emotionally charged person, like me, except obviously you are able to express it much more elegantly than I….. Well done…

  2. > Now that I’ve written this, maybe I’ll write something good.

    Ha. Isn’t that, though, the way it goes: “…I’ve written…I’ll write…”?

    I actually like the hopeful melting at the end:

    thaws him
    a bit more
    each day.

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