Posted: March 28, 2008 by Doc in Poetry
Tags: , ,


by Joyce Sutphen

The second half of my life will be black
to the white rind of the old and fading moon.
The second half of my life will be water
over the cracked floor of these desert years.
I will land on my feet this time,
knowing at least two languages and who
my friends are. I will dress for the
occasion, and my hair shall be
whatever color I please.
Everyone will go on celebrating the old
birthday, counting the years as usual,
but I will count myself new from this
inception, this imprint of my own desire.

The second half of my life will be swift,
past leaning fenceposts, a gravel shoulder,
asphalt tickets, the beckon of open road.
The second half of my life will be wide-eyed,
fingers shifting through fine sands,
arms loose at my sides, wandering feet.
There will be new dreams every night,
and the drapes will never be closed.
I will toss my string of keys into a deep
well and old letters into the grate.

The second half of my life will be ice
breaking up on the river, rain
soaking the fields, a hand
held out, a fire,
and smoke going
upward, always up.

  1. i love this poem. 🙂 thanks for sharing!

  2. TBR 3 is up. 🙂 hope you enjoy it!

  3. Bone MD says:

    Doc Whisperer, I hear your whispers again! Glad you can join TBR.

    This is a very hearty poem indeed. Stories of our lives!

    Hope you can join the next rounds of TBR Visit my blog for updates! And I’ll update my link to your blog!

  4. dr tes says:

    touching! please join th 4th TBR, im hosting with BoneMD’s help.

  5. MerryCherry says:

    Great poem Doc.

    Will link you up ha 🙂

  6. gigi says:

    Hi Doc, I’m Gigi and I run a little blog called Beyond Borders: The Lei Si Chronicles. I wish to invite you to be part of the 16th edition of The Blog Rounds. Please check out my call for articles here for details. Thank you so much.

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