Wheelchairs
and walkers
in God’s
waiting room
Praying
abeyant
the end
coming soon
Front to
the back
they line
in the queue
Telling their
stories
from memory’s
askew
They wait
and they wonder
who’s next
to go
As all through
the lounge
great grandkids
in tow
New moments
like hen’s teeth
each minute
a year
As walkers
and wheelchairs
rust out
— in the tears
(Dunwoody Retirement Home: September, 2025)
Truth In The Tasting
Short
is most sweet
when the sugar
is pure
Its message
like honey
when added
to lure
The Mime
as your server
with candy
implied
Truth
in the tasting
its richness
— to hide
(Dreamsleep: September, 2025)
-
Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: September 11th, 2025 10:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments2
Truth in both age takes all that circumstance does not take first. There is no grace in aging. Sugar baits the trap in the second. A set of lovely writes
Thanks again for reading and commenting.
Most welcome Kurt
Yes indeed, Kurt…your words capture two poles of human experience: waiting in sorrow and savoring the bite of truth. Both resonate deeply. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Glad you enjoyed, thanks.
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