I find that I’m more nostalgic these days,
And wonder if it’s simply part of getting older?
Or is it a sign of the times?
With evil getting bolder,
And committing further crimes?
I find myself feeling ever more grateful,
For each moment idling hours ‘way with fam’ly:
The one that I got to help create;
And, for now, sit happily,
Before it becomes too late,
And we rise and disperse unto fate.
K. Aldaya, 2/25/22
Look to see.
Not I. Not I.
With infirmity of hand and eye,
Can see and tell,
What’s near.
What’s nigh.
Below the drifting, fleeing sky.
Look to see.
The knots and knots,
Binding bones within their slots.
Still. Silent. Still.
Have-nots. Will-nots.
Conform at will.
Look to see,
Not I, but I,
With elder-pen and bloodshot eye,
Bound in an out,
Can break and sigh,
For a peace both near and nigh.
K. Aldaya, 4/11/06
Picture: “The Open Sky” by foureyes on Deviant Art; http://www.deviantart.com/art/the-open-sky-2681736
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 