Waiting by Tony Clabby

As I look out into the silent glade.
I see Trees resting bare.
The burden of their offspring,
reared through the Summer…….gone.
The Autumn of their lives.
Scattered beneath, golden brown.
I feel their warmth upon my soul.
The landscape of my being mirrored there before me,
still and silent……..resting.
Waiting for a Season coming.
Whilst Evergreens stand guard.
Silently,watching,unflinching in
the mist……..waiting…….waiting
Waiting for birth……waiting
Waiting for a new beginning.

Tony Clabby, 87, cares for his 93 year old wife in The Liberties, Dublin

1 Comment

  1. Beautiful poem, thought provoking, keep on writing.

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