Seasoned Souls

Seasoned Souls



staring out windows,glass doors, and rusted screens
they wonder, they remember- they dream
they sit in their easy chairs
on cushions of fear
the summer is too warm
the winter is too cold
the hill is always too steep

once .. it was not so
but now...
the day begins- counting out pills
One, Two, three, four
Time is always there- needing to be killed
with TV game shows and "stares" out the door

walkers with wheels are no substitute
for strong legs and daring hearts
crutches and canes
can break and fall apart

the front step is too high
the rusted rail is too low
the porch is too shaky
if only they had known....

they sit in their easy chairs
on cushions of fear
staring out windows, glass doors, and rusted screens

the young walk past
singing songs of laughter
and selfish cold hearts
they can not see
that soon they will be...

sitting in their easy chairs...
on cushions of fear