Silvered

A Silver Linings Poem

Do you like being old? a question only children may demand— You can’t run fast, was his lament, or kick a ball as I can.

Ah, these things are true, I spoke with wisdom rarely known— But, I am rich with silver, that’s mine and mine alone.

Are you wealthy? Where is your treasure? In a safe, in the bank, In your closet for good measure?

None of those places, I replied, my silver is in my hair, in my words and memories, silver is everywhere.

My life is lined with silver, lustrous threads of yesteryear — you are there, woven in, with all your love and cheer.

These words were spoken in a time before viruses and quarantines, in a time before grandchildren left and life felt cold and mean.

And now they come to me by memory’s narration, whispered in this quiet time — silver linings of my isolation.

In response to this piece by Raffaella Ferretti (thanks for the tag):

Which was in response to this April Promposity Challenge “Silver Linings” by Natalie Frank, Ph.D.:

And, I am tagging:

Tracy Aston Lisa Bolin Agnes Louis Carolyn Riker Ré Harris wistfulwanderer David S.