Each Spring Beckons Me Out the Door

A fuzzy pink sweater adorns the cherry tree
and all the ladies, half my age, are smiling at me.

Or so it seems –
maybe they’re just smiling near me.
It’s hard to see with such watery eyes,
as if I’m looking through melting ice.

Each spring beckons me out the door,
but I’m moving slower than the year before
and can’t keep up as the ladies walk past.
When did these women get so fast?

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief

7 Comments

  1. Liz H-H's avatar Liz H-H says:

    This is kinda sweet! I say, assume the smiles and smile right back!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. luvgoodcarp's avatar luvgoodcarp says:

      Haha. I like that approach.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. JosieHolford's avatar JosieHolford says:

    The Cherry Tree Is Hot

    Loveliest of trees

    The cherry tree’s in its pink spring fling,
    while I wear beige and ting-a-ling-a-ling.
    A girl in crop-top joy walks by—
    I try to smile. I pull a thigh.

    Silly girl – all open top in freezing rain and she will cop it.

    I laugh, or maybe it’s just the breeze.
    Either way, I grunt like old floorboards and sneeze.
    Ah, spring, no more sentimental shit
    These day I just go out – enjoy it..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. luvgoodcarp's avatar luvgoodcarp says:

      Haha. Well done, Josie.

      Like

  3. Priti's avatar Priti says:

    Ha ha 😂😂 let them go fast but you enjoy looking at them 😄. Beautiful poem 💖

    Liked by 1 person

  4. The women weren’t fast enough when I was young. Now they are too fast when I am old.

    Liked by 3 people

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