The Aged Ones

We are the aged ones,
The last ones living off inheritances,
Consuming,
Consuming,
Nothing much left for the next generation,
Crumbling infrastructures,
Decaying,
Decaying.

We mutely observe the passing of an age,
Greedily outliving all expectations.


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

A Little Space

A little space
Is all I need
To sit and rest
And plant a seed,
To someday root
To someday grow
So when I’m old
I’ll someday know.


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Broken

The impossible holds me in tight embrace,

No longer a harmless dream.

What was tranquil,

Predictable,

Is all jagged edges,

Without form,

Without logic.

Now,

All my answers have turned into questions,

And all my questions are in a language

I no longer understand.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved