Leaning Years

She leans her years
on the handle.
Time is weakening her
roots as she holds herself up

against the blowing wind.
The walking stick is a hand
rail on life’s staircase.
Mother is now on the gradient

that hurts the most. Her years
have gathered in her limbs,
weighing down each trunk.
Her tongue is an autumn leaf

slowly fading away, battered
and bruised by winter’s fists.

Gareth Culshaw lives in Wales. He is an aspiring writer who hopes one day to achieve something special with the pen.

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