Old Pipes – a poem about aging

image by Michael Luenen on pixabay

(originally published on Medium)

Old Pipes

Resounding percussion
from a hollow in the wall.
Faint rhythmic echoes
down the hall.
I can’t quite make out the lyrical throng
or I would happily sing along.

As we age, our hearing may slowly diminish. This has been a opic of several discussions between the older members of my family. So, when I asked my son what music he’d been playing down the hall and he replied he hadn’t, I wrote this poem.

We poets will find inspiration in the strangest places!

May you find your inspiration today.

Lynne

Author: Lynne Collier/Author

Hello. My blogs are mostly about my work as a writer of Speculative Fiction, my faith as a Christ follower, and my childhood in mid-century England. My hope is that something I say will put a smile on your face today and encourage you in your journey.​

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