Miscellaneous

A Poem By My Grandma

By jeremyblachman

My grandma is in a poetry workshop at a senior center where she takes classes.  Tomorrow they're doing a "reading" at lunch -- each of them gets up and reads one of their poems, and the audience is "held captive," she said -- "they don't get to eat until everyone is done."  She read me her poem and I thought I'd share it.  Here it is:

"What Is Old Age?"

I look in the mirror and what do I see
Red-rimmed eyes, deep wrinkles, and white hair staring back at me
But I don't care
When I look deeper and beneath the surface
Past the superficial outside to what's really inside
Each wrinkle is an experience, each one a tear
My eyes red from looking at the world all these years
My white hair a symbol of the things I have done
The people I have touched and who have touched me
I don't fret
I am glad for the red eyes, the wrinkled skin, and white hair
They are my memories

Full post as published by Jeremy Blachman's Brand New Weblog on May 04, 2008 (boomark / email).