Robert Joe Stout




Growing Old

 

There are times

when life splits

into so many joys

 

one just hangs on,

amazed. And times

when one is alone

 

in a garden

where nothing 

grows. And times

 

when one takes

someone's hand and says,

"Why were you gone so long?"

 

 

Memory

 

Over powdering stones

of what had been

a house

cascades of scarlet

bougainvillea

wrap window,

door,

but thorned,

bringing blood

when touched,

                       

                        so much

 like

       

          you




Robert Joe Stout is a freelance journalist and currently resides in Oaxaca, Mexico. His essays, fiction, and poetry appear in a wide variety of commercial and literary magazines.









                                    

 

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