Agnes’s Wave

This was actually inspired by the first chapter of a Milan Kundera novel I just re-read – Immortality.

She lacked grace, her attempts were laughable
As she desperately tried, to follow
instructions. Her frustration palpable,
covered in wry smiles, she didn’t once wallow

in self-pity while learning to swim, for fun.
They didn’t need her now, the nest was empty
a chance to live for herself, not for son,
nor daughter. Time’s sudden generosity,

left many hours for minor indulgences
long denied. I watched her, no doubt thinking
of Two Thousand Twenty Six, dulled senses,
arthritic bones and a stature shrinking,

When she raised her hand in a girlish wave,
Twinkling eyes signaling she wasn’t time’s slave.

Leave a comment

No comments yet.

Comments RSS TrackBack Identifier URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

  • Follow Curlicues's Weblog on