Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

Archive for the tag “age”

A Biodegradable Old Bag

A plastic bag hangs in a tree,
billowing and startling, popping and snapping
at every gust of wind.
No breeze is too slight to escape
her rustling displeasure. 

The constant buffeting tears holes,
deflating her, shredding her to ribbons
until, voiceless, she can do nothing but
flutter helpless streamers,
as though signalling for help
as one by one,
the bio-degradable ribbons
slough away, to whisper a while
amongst the sighing grass before
dissolving into silence.

Across the Ages

“This is home now” middle-age tells age
“No, this is not home,” age replies, “and I will not stay.”
“Yes, you must. Give it a chance and you’ll find you like it here.”
“No, I won’t.“
“But you can’t live alone.”
“Says who?”
“You know you can’t. What if you fall?”
“What if a meteorite hit this place?”
Middle-age sighs.
“Is this because I wouldn’t let you have a pony?” Age asks.
“We lived in town, we couldn’t have livestock in town.”
“No, it isn’t about that. I’ll help you unpack.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll be going back home tomorrow.”
“No, Mom, you won’t.”
“Stop treating me like a child.”


“I moved grandma today,” says middle-age.
“Was that today?” says youth.
“You know damned well it was. I could have used your help.”
Youth sighs.
Middle-age knows the eyes are rolling even with her back turned.
“I bet Gramma was pissed.”
“Go do your homework.”
“Stop treating me like a child.”


Alone, middle age looks into her mirror.
“I wish someone would treat me like a child” she whispers.



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