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Today I found a shady, grassy glade
amongst the banksias
between the dusty road and the roaring sea.
For once, I sat and beach-read:
poems about ageing, dementia, death,
obliquely angled
at subjects that cause terror.
I ventured in amongst wild breakers
only so far, not too far,
and yet I felt the dragging sea.
I braced myself in sand
and faced the monster firmly.
But still it chivvied me
and shoved me fast and fierce
to where I did not want to be,
tumbled helpless in a swirl of sand.
I stumbled shorewards,
safe this time
to seek the refuge offered by the shade,
poems about
ageing, dementia, death,
no longer so oblique.
snippetsandsnaps 
beautiful, disturbing, reassuring…
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Is it best to think of these things often and risk creating the reality too quickly, or try not to at all? I don’t know.Your peep into the inevitable is beautifully done Meg.
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My tendency is always to be the ostrich, and hope I emulate my aunt and pass in my sleep … for her too soon.
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Subjects, that when we get to a certain age, I try not to dwell on. Be careful of the unpredictable currents Meg. My Jack no longer runs in to the ocean without a thought as now it can so easily overturn him. I keep well away
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Love the chair, the hat, the book so casually flung into the poem. Adore the poem: once again you take me with you into the moment. Ageing, dementia, death. I suppose we can’t put off thinking about these subjects forever.
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Oh, but how we try!
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Where none of us want to be, hon. 🙂 🙂 But that swirling water has a strong mind of its own. Beautifully penned, Meg.
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Touchy territory well broached here, Meg. Much to think about – or rather not to think about.
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Not to think about indeed. But I’d just read Drabble’s “Seven Sisters” and the New Ohio Review seemed to specialise in such subjects. I did think seriously about them ten years ago – easier then than now when they’re so much closer.
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My feelings exactly!
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Some great lines, Meg. I particularly liked “amongst the banksias
between the dusty road and the roaring sea”
and
“and shoved me fast and fierce
to where I did not want to be”
Very rhythmic…mimicking the sea, perhaps? Plus, your image with the chair, magazine and the carelessly flung hat – I like it!
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Thanks! I normally hate doing anything at the beach with pelting-down sun, but this newly found shade put a different complexion on it. And J likes being in the ocean more than I do.
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As you know, I don’t do sun and heat any longer!
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love the poem!
>
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I’ve got a great article by Ursula Le Guin about the crone to share when we meet again, eventually!
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