Glory Days
The younger you are
the more future you anticipate.
Glory days all waiting in
treasure chests and you hold the key,
like a queen in your garden of dreams.
Some days my head hurts with dreams.
I am overwhelmed by who I might become.
Glory days are forever in a moment
a moment in forever.
The older you get
the more past you accumulate.
Glory days all locked in
individual cells and you hold the key,
like a warden in your prison of memories.
Some days my head hurts with memories.
I am overwhelmed by who I have been.
#70
Linda Studley 
Thanks Cynthia, it’s good to know that there is common ground in my writing that others can relate to, it kinda the goal really – to connect, to communicate. As long as I can keep my inner critic from waking up until at least an hour after I’ve written my morning poem it seems to work without fear! lol
Well, the creative flow is – well, flowing – no more eddies these days. I so relate to this poem. I think you and I are about the same age, and though our life experiences are different, one of the tasks at this time in life seems to be the re-visting of key scenes in our minds of just how we became who we are. You are writing fearlessly now!