Epitaph

~

across the years, 

throughout a lifetime

my poetry has moved from 

giddy teenage love letters, to  

a considered, rear-view mirror, 

septuagenarian candour,

.

somewhere between these two

gateposts, along an unsatisfied path,

I seek the hidden signpost, a way

forward, clarification, reassurance,

a palpable ‘Camino’ for my soul,

and the hope of some redemption 

along the tortuous route,

.

at its threshold in the early years my

poetry could be naïve, fresh, flimsy, 

in the middle years it could be 

destructive, opinionated, reckless,

and during these later years, it

carries a burden, a weight of senile

expectation, a conscience, a duty,

.

across the years, towards the

sunset of a lifetime of verse,

the words may have changed, 

may have grown and taken on a 

persona of their own, 

although worryingly 

it’s an identity that no longer 

recognises its creator

*

(there must be a word for this)

© Graham R Sherwood 2/25