RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Age creeps upon us unawares, turning our hair gray or white
Bones creaking as we walk slower, a little unsteadier, a bit
more surer about what life has been about.
Memories fade at times, a misty fog seems to cover our minds
as we become forgetful, distant at times.
Living in the past, telling stories of old, enjoying the
memories that have taken hold and not been forgotten.
Life is a long journey at best, at it's end we are old,
decrepit, tired, ready to retire from this world and begin
anew in heaven.
RoseAnn V. Shawiak's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Aging by RoseAnn V. Shawiak )
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