The sun set slowly
reminded us of the glory days
When we had youth and fortitude.
We cannot all age well
Yet we all remember our youthful ways,
when we danced playfully at the murky edge of maturity.
This body frail as it is now
was a totem, an emblem of our love and lives together,
hallowed in the summers of our spiritual enlightenment before we had children of our own.
The sun sets slowly.
Death washes over us,
creeps through the open window in the dead of night.
©Alison Jean Hankinson.
napwrimo 18 Day 29 the penultimate.
This is for d’Verse open link night.
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Hues of Hankinson 
Ageing is truly a difficult process.. especially in this era… when life is so fast paced and where everything changes within a second. Evocative write 💜
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Thanks to you and much love. XXX
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The sun sets on all of us. “when we danced playfully at the murky edge of maturity.” I like this imagery. The mystery of the murky future, can’t quite peek into it
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I love the phrase “when we danced playfully at the murky edge of maturity.” Great writing!
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Cool poem.
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‘when we danced playfully at the murky edge of maturity’ – I remember that time! You’ve captured the sorrows of ageing so well, Alison.
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Thank you. Much love. Xx
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The process of aging… the dusk that settle is indeed hard…. especially when we remember the carefree days of youth.
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“Murky edge of maturity”… what a fabulous line! Thanks for sharing.
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