Young and Old

women in garden2

How strange it is to be
the oldest one present,
to listen to the stories of the
young, remembering my own
idealism, self-centeredness,
lack of understanding.

I love being with young people,
yet it is also good to be
with someone my own age, too.
Our talk is of things the young
can not yet comprehend. Our
conversations are filled with
silent moments as we let
ourselves savor the cup of tea,
a sweet memory, or recall a sad
time, no longer filled with pain.

We rock our chairs across the
passage of time, enjoying each
other without expectations…just
old friends sharing life stories
in a garden filled with
flowers and love.

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to Young and Old

  1. JanBeek says:

    Your poem resonated with me, Pat, so much that I was compelled to reblog it. Thank you! I shared with my readers that I had this kind of experience with an “old friend” today. Such a treasure – such a treat. Yes, we are blessed!

    Like

  2. JanBeek says:

    Reblogged this on janbeek and commented:
    I shared that cup of tea with a friend my age today, savoring the time together, enjoying her presence without expectations, recalling sad times no longer filled with pain. It was pure pleasure. Such a blessing… old friends! 🙂

    Like

  3. So many memeories of my grandma and her friends sitting around snapping beans in preparation for canning. Your poetry makes the world come alive.

    Like

  4. toad2014 says:

    you mean in the garden of love filled with flowers

    Like

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