Worry Bone

image: favim.com

image: favim.com


Worry Bone


Behind imaginary glass, the water

rises, only my hand now breathing air.


If I could rise, stand upright, I could

breathe, but strength deserts me


under the strain of one more challenge.

Where is the resilience I called upon,


gone with the years passing, each brings

another age line, another downslope slide.


How many slips backward before there is

no returning, before the final slide into darkness?


Carol A. Stephen

February 9, 2017







2 thoughts on “Worry Bone

  1. Dear Carol, Wow this poem says it all. I feel in my “bones”. If I am understanding it correctly, I feel it answers to the frustrations we have growing older. The adjusts we have to make to illness, pain, and sometimes loneliness. Sometimes I feel disconnected from things. I don’t know whether is part of being human and our awareness of the finality of life on Earth. Anyway, I love this poem and I’ve printed it out so I can read it off and on as I deal with things..

  2. Claudia, I am honoured that you felt my poem so deeply. It came the pain and frustration as you say, over my health and aging, and the health of my old cat. I am pleased to know that my poem will stay with you! Thank you.

    P.S. I believe that the poem is to be understood as each reader understands it. Whatever it says to you is what it means. When a poem goes into the world, it no longer belongs only to the poet.

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