Volume > Issue > Old Age

Old Age

A POEM

By Anne Keith | November 1983

Accept the wind —

Insanity would fight it now.

It is no angel to be wrestled with.

 

Accept the wind —

Exalting in the ripping off of color

from the trees.

It deals in stripping and revealing

nakedness.

 

Accept the wind —

The time has come for seeing

Trunk, and limb, and twig.

 

Accept it with great joy

Knowing that God appointed sap

To rise again.

Enjoyed reading this?

READ MORE! REGISTER TODAY

SUBSCRIBE

You May Also Enjoy

Parting Word

“If I do not go —
the Spirit will not come.”

 

What Is the Purpose of Poetry?

Poetry was once understood to be an anthropological episteme, a way of knowing, if only through a glass darkly.

To Angela, Who Is Afraid of Clowns

Clowns are grandfathers

painted with strokes of laughter

who kiss lollipops

but never lick them.