flurries

I never cared before
things going down that should be up
things going up that should be down
none of this ever mattered
and I don’t think it does now
I think what’s bothering me
is
how much blur there is behind me
I wish I would’ve recorded
paper, photos, journals
more
there are flurries of images
like snow, I recall them
they land on my tongue then melt
there are distinct memories
not necessarily good
taking up too much space
I count five decades plus
seven-hundred-thirty days
I get worried looks sometimes
from the young kiddies when I substitute teach
What year were you born?
I never hesitate, 1963 with a smile
as they need reassurance their old temp-teacher won’t melt like the
West Witch
or the snowflakes
I laugh remembering
the feeling coiling around ‘those’ old people
anyone beyond eighteen as I recall
gosh, I feel so young in my head
and inside my heart where it’s warm
maybe it’s okay if the snowflakes melt
better old and warm than aged and cold

for now…

I’m blessed to still have both parents
my dad often jokes
“…just wait ’til you’re 83…”

Aged Smile

Aged Smile

born a few months ago, previously published

 

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21 thoughts on “flurries

  1. In the eventide of my life I find that I am the only one in my family to have the sensitivity to know. To know that it takes alot of time to get even with them and that is what I am about to do. To get published and that my Dear is the single most important thing in my life. To get them back for their deceit. It only takes a mo’. But there it is. And that is the end of it. In other words, get down and enjoy what you can because it will soon be another day and then it will all begin. The end. A fifty two year old veteran of the War between ages.

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  2. My mother use to say that her 60’s were her golden years because she was healthy enough to be able to travel at a whim and no children to worry about, just visit. I just turned 61 and my life has changed overwhelmingly, not in traveling like my mom, but in being able to realize certain younger dreams to explore my creativity in writing and photography and to let old shadows go. I was also a substitute teacher for years and retired last year. I got the same thing with agism from students/staff/parents also.

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    • We have much to look forward to!
      So you know how challenging substituting can be. I bust out my big heels to heights over 6′ and enjoy walking into a room of kiddies 😉
      My parents are still traveling – my mom is 79 and dad 83 and they recently returned from a trip to Ireland. They’ve been to Europe several times along with many other exotic locales – I hold out glorious hopes 🙂 It sounds as if you’re are really enjoying your life as well – how wonderful!!!
      am:)

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  3. Funny, tonight @ the track my sister-in-law just said the same thing about not feeling her age, that she feels much younger (she’s 43! but she has an 18 year old who just graduated from high school). I feel this way all of the time, but I’m much older. I feel, really, much younger than I did when I was younger, if that makes sense. Ah, time’s passing. But you’ve captured that passing with such lovely imagery and words, AM — “flurries of images / like snow” that “land on [the] tongue then melt” — simply lovely, Miss. 1963! Geez, I am old! 🙂 But time and age is relative, isn’t it? There are your folks acting like teenagers, right? Well, age is just a number. It’s true.

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    • I tell you Deb, I look at my beautiful vibrant 79-year-old mother and think wow – so it is possible 🙂
      You most definitely are young at heart, both inside and out…
      It’s life that makes one feel old, not years lived. Look at it the right way and you can reverse your insides (still working on the outside part-darn it).
      Hope you had a lovely day, Deb and now it’s off to la la land as I must face first graders tomorrow.
      am:)
      Lucky you getting a walk in. Hope your sis-in-law is well too 🙂

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  4. Beautiful, AnnMarie! As one who has always tried to pin down those blurry memories (and has boxes and boxes of STUFF to show for it), I love every word of this poem. Just goes to show you are as talented with letter pictures as you are with drawings. And age is definitely relative. I graduated high school when you were four; last week at work Georgia commented on my new, slimmer body and said, “You look better now, Mom, than when you were 40!” That felt good. Happy Friday! – Fawn

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