This is a poem that came to me at about 30K feet. It’s about aging and memory.

If you don’t like poetry or metaphor — it might be good to stop reading here:).

If you like poetry, you might want to read it twice.

 

Another Visitation

One armed men

And withered women

Hold candles where their teeth should be

Wax dripping

Burning

Staining

Carpet that needs replacing

It’s hard to find your way

This way

Because wrinkles

Will not slacken

And carpets

Will not give up the floor

Stubbornly

Refusing to move

As successors greedily lie in wait

Rolled into a consciousness contracting

In a universe expanding

Small orbits

Are especially strong

And wrinkles, old carpets,

Even dimming candlelight

Are intriguingly pleasant

As drops of hot wax

Blister your fingers

Partly because scars

Last longer

Than memories