poetry critical

online poetry workshop

Where Time Saves What it Steals

Blink and years have passed,
the children with children,
the hair that was so black
is threaded with silver.
The body that once leaped
to high jump and hurdle
high school fame rebels
at the most inconvenient times.
I feel happiest clothed and in shadow;
I used to throw off my towel
and leap into the pool.
Are there moments saved
like childhood memories,
is Time a father who cherishes
or a tyrant who laughs at our pain?
I want my years returned,
pink and unscarred
with an energy surge
and a high jump I know
I can leap over,
if I feel the urge.

1 Sep 10

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I really like this. I want to say that the first stanza sounds cliche, but it doesn't. You made it work. The last two stanzas are my favorite. They're definately the heart of the poem.
 — whiteheat