The loneliness of old age, a feeling of life having slipped by unnoticed, the awareness that little time remains: these things preoccupy me and surface from time to time in my verses.
MISS McCARTHY
Miss McCarthy, at the window,
wonders where did all the gin go
as she stands, forlorn and swaying,
watching, outside, children playing
games of hop-scotch with their young friends,
under street-lamps, as the day ends.
Starlings swirl beyond the house-tops,
lovers linger at the bus-stops.
Life is happening around her.
It continues to astound her
that life causes such distress and
that the pain has never lessened.
Old, alone, she feels the starkness
of the fast descending darkness.
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