I wonder what I’ll be like

when I am an old woman.

Will I be strong and feisty and

active to the end of my days?

My cane might double as a sword

to battle the dragons of my imagination.

Perhaps a whack on the bum

of the young man whose pants are

flirting with his knees–

something I’d like to do today,

but I don’t possess the rash uncaring

of one who faces their final freedom.

Will I be the quiet and thoughtful

old lady that demands respect

with my countenance alone?

My spectacles upon my nose

perched to read the book held

in my feeble and  wrinkled hands

yet able to peer over with a reproachful

warning that silence is sacred.

The only loud music deserving

my aged ears would be the

trumpets heralding my arrival home.


Will I return to a childlike state

with eyes vacant and unaware?

Too tough to take a sudden departure,

leaving my body for heavenly visits,

unaware of the stench of my

own waste in an adult diaper;

only being pulled back to my body

by a child’s exuberant cry of “Grammy!

We love you!” causing a smile to

form on my wrinkled face.

photo courtesy of Mimi Foxmorton

Will I look in the mirror and

wonder who is looking back at me?

Surely that wrinkled old woman

can’t possibly be me.

Inside maybe I will still feel sixteen–

carefree and wanting to dance

the night away, but trapped

within a body that refuses to stand.

I might wonder how I could

have possibly grown so old and frail.


I wonder, but not too much.


For my wonderful friend Mimi Foxmorton and her mom.

Linking to One Single Impression where the theme is spectacles.  I was very late posting this, so I’ve decided to share at Real Toad’s open link today.

Mountain Goat

Transforming Fridays.  Today we’re getting in touch with life on the tundra and exploring point of view.  Be sure to visit Real Toads for more tundrariffic poetry.  I have chosen to share life as a mountain goat.

My home high in the mountains

On top of the world so cold

Until the sun shines on my coat;

New kids with me by my side

Together we climb to high

Altitudes in search of food.

I paw the ground and snort a warning-

Newcomers are a danger to us;

“Get behind me little ones!”

Off we go down steep cliffs

Away from the danger

To rest safely under the shrub.

“Me’s no mountain goat, but me’s be cuterest,” Myson Osboer

And just for fun, here’s a bonus polar bear haiku.


padding the tundra

clawed pawprints in icy snow

searching for dinner


The Form for All challenge at d’Verse Poets is to write a Tritina, a poetry form created by Marie Ponsot.  It is a structured ten line poem. You can read about the form at d’Verse Poets and dont’ forget to check out all the great poems linked up.


the sadness in my heart

weighs upon my soul

until it comes out in song


healing nature of my song

releases angst from heart

and brings joy to the soul


the joy within my soul

expressed as poetic song

gives wings to my heart


gentle heart, beautiful soul, poetry’s song