Letting Go
by Allison Joseph
I wear no bra, abandon
hooks and closures,
let my body drift
into its own idea
of adulthood, my skin
less firm, scars
and stretch marks
showing me how far
I've come, telling me
I'm no longer young,
that this body will
record all I do on
its ledger; every callous,
every spidery vein,
every bit of pleasure.
Now, I can touch knees
no longer smooth
or enticing, feel arms
that have held too many
boxes of books,
shrug shoulders
that stoop a little now,
closer to the ground,
to life. I don't bother
to guess where this body's
going, to predict its
passions or motions,
perferring its surprises ---
arms reaching farther
than I thought they could,
legs walking me into towns
I don't know. Wiser,
saner, my body goes
where it wants, knowledge
of sinew and cell all
it needs to know,
all it wants to tell.
by Allison Joseph
I wear no bra, abandon
hooks and closures,
let my body drift
into its own idea
of adulthood, my skin
less firm, scars
and stretch marks
showing me how far
I've come, telling me
I'm no longer young,
that this body will
record all I do on
its ledger; every callous,
every spidery vein,
every bit of pleasure.
Now, I can touch knees
no longer smooth
or enticing, feel arms
that have held too many
boxes of books,
shrug shoulders
that stoop a little now,
closer to the ground,
to life. I don't bother
to guess where this body's
going, to predict its
passions or motions,
perferring its surprises ---
arms reaching farther
than I thought they could,
legs walking me into towns
I don't know. Wiser,
saner, my body goes
where it wants, knowledge
of sinew and cell all
it needs to know,
all it wants to tell.
(I found this poem on page two in the anthology "Grow Old Along With Me The best is Yet To Be" edited by Sandra Haldeman Martz. Don't forget to click on the poets name to learn more about her.)
FANTASTIC AND SO TRUE
ReplyDelete"Wiser,
ReplyDeletesaner, my body goes
where it wants, knowledge
of sinew and cell all
it needs to know,
all it wants to tell."
I like this poem because it tells that even though the body grows older, we can still continue to grow mentally, becoming wiser. Thank you for sharing this.
Wonderful tribute to growing older and wiser---even if the packaging sags a little. *smile*
ReplyDeleteSomeone content with their lot. I wish it were me sometimes.
ReplyDeleteThe knees scream stop, the pulse runs wild as I snatch at an impossible load.
I will never stop trying.
Never stop working.
Until.
Marvelous--I'll keep my bra, but I love it. Just wish I could stay young as I grow wiser and better.
ReplyDeleteOk, I'm vain!! Great poem!!!
LOL This struck me as funny :o). Today someone told me I was beautiful. I told him that he would change his mind on that one day. He then said the most wonderful thing. "Not even when we're old and shriveled." LOL This poem reminds me that his words are true. Thank you for that. No matter what happens to our bodies, we'll always be beautiful to the ones that love us!
ReplyDeletehttp://bostonsdandd.multiply.com/journal/item/310
I know the feelings /:-)
ReplyDeleteAh, such freedom! This is a great poem.
ReplyDeletemy apologies for the problem with the link. Here it is:
ReplyDeletehttp://perspect.siuc.edu/03_sp/joseph.html
I can relate to this poem, I like the idea of letting ones body 'drift'.............thanks for the link I enjoyed reading about this poet
ReplyDelete