Crack it

By bwb

My children are growing, learning, preparing to leave.

And soon the children of my children will come
and go

My joints, old rubber, shrinking and cracking
Running, walking, sitting

Breathing. Dying. 

The future is in my mind and my bones
Long hours and short weeks
Months in a blink

Work, wages, bills, moves
Wills, pages, files, dirt
Cars, boxes, piles, shoes
Bags, screws, hat, shirt. 

The collection of my labors and desires
The failure of my determination
The junk of my years and lives
Longing for my generations.

My father is old
My sons are older
By mercy stretching
Into years uncountable
Horizons out of sight. 

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2019 bwb
Published on Sunday, September 8, 2019.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "Crack it "

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  • 13sonsofgod On Tuesday, September 10, 2019, 13sonsofgod (748)By person wrote:

    Beautiful it is to watch the ones we love grow with us.....and see them smile with love, you are truly blessed....13........

  • Elizabeth kaczocha On Tuesday, September 10, 2019, Elizabeth kaczocha (25)By person wrote:

    Great write. Made me feel a little old lol.

  • Hope in despair On Monday, September 9, 2019, Hope in despair (93)By person wrote:

    Great write! I can definitely relate to this! Getting older and yet the daily grind continues relentless. Well done!

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