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Old Dogs
February 2, 2014
My nails are growing now and
I’ve lost the feel of your fingertips.
Like the sound of a sharpened pencil
on a dull mind,
I can’t impress my feelings into emptiness.
Glass may be my fragmented medium
but without a reflection, you aren’t here.
And maybe it just hides in my closet
and maybe I’m still staring at ghosts
but at least they listen.
If you’re old enough to be ignorant,
you’re old enough to learn.
© Chelsea C., Auburndale, FL
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