I am tall in years these days
And sway with all the breezes.
Weather whistles through my ways,
Erupts in snorts and sneezes.
Snow hair caps my domed skull.
My eyes peer out the stratosphere.
Nests up there a hawk or gull.
Buzzards will arrive next year.
My feet no longer walk, they slide.
I exist on milk and gruel.
Black shadows stalk along my side
And challenge me to duel.
I know it’s out there, waiting, grinning,
That final apprehender
Trying for its final inning.
I’m damned if I’ll surrender.
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Comments about this poem (Age by Jan Sand )
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
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- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
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