by Fred Miller

Like sly evening shadows 
that slip toward the maw of dusk,
my days have begun to fade in time.

Pushing, struggling, shuffling, 
I stir knowing all will soon erode 
toward the eternal dust to come. 

Shall I submit to inevitable tides
that beckon each to assured oblivion,
comraderies of old now lost in dim recall?

Come back, vivid dreams of yesterday
basking in the lime light of verve and spunk.
In silence, instincts wave softly to tissues 
that disclaim all yen of pluck and drive.

Yet, a portal remains beyond this breech
to come, life void of foibles and shame,
a new strength, a fresh way of being. 

Pushing, struggling, shuffling, what remains?
Steadfast intent, I submit, with stalwart dreams
filled with faith bound to days of goodness yet to come..

Fred Miller is a California writer and an author of two books. Over a hundred of his poems and stories have appeared in publications around the world over the past ten years. Many are available on his blog.