A Life Backwards Poem by Mark E Webster

Rickety from this bed I rise;
Cataracts and fear fall from my eyes,
As I, now loose limbed, ease myself into the world.
Vistas of finite possibility unfurl
A fresh breath of hope inflates my soul.
I see now so clearly a common goal
No need for signposts, I have a well worn guide.
But first I must cast these strangers aside.
With each passing day they mean more and more.
Till at last they are as nothing when I walk out the door.
And into a lithe and free abandon; I am reeling.
Each conquest ends with love and starts with leaving.
A decorated uniform is followed by violent rage.
Surrounded by comrades all on the same page.
As we battle to create and build nations and races.
Filling holes in the ground, pumping blood into corpses.
Bringing new life to the world with fire and tactics.
Then it's time for the games, the relentless practice.
The beard is now thinning and the voice loses tone.
A satchel replaces the car and the phone.
I am relieved of the burden of knowledge and skill.
Simple are the pleasures with each day I fill.
And I grow small, and I grow innocent, and I grow all the more lovely,
Till gurgling and smiling while all eyes are upon me.
Then blinking back the light and screeching out my last
I'm sucked into the present from an unknowable past.

28 Oct 14