by Arlene Antoinette
Old Fashioned
Part
One-Nothing a Cup of Hot Tea Won’t Cure
It’s
not that I’m tired of life; it’s life that has become tired of me. I sit by my
window and watch the little ones playing outside running, jumping, screaming,
and tearing up my flower-beds with no apologies. The road has become their park,
my driveway their gymnasium and my lawn their resting place. I watch them and
wonder what my newly laid grass thinks as it is now a comfy day-bed for the
under 12 crowd. I look on with pure jealousy and question when that kind of
energy seeped out of my bones, hastened through my veins and dissipated from my
skin. When did I become this old shadow of a person who begrudges little ones
their play, their happiness, their youth? A ball is thrown, and my garage door
has become a backboard for flying objects. I sigh, then chuckle. My jealousy
diminishes. I make myself a cup of tea and return to my seat by the window. I
close my eyes, breathe in the aroma of peppermint and day-dream of my younger
days.
About the author
Arlene Antoinette is a writer who enjoys dabbling in poetry, flash fiction and
song lyrics. Additional poetry by Arlene Antoinette may be found @ Foxglove
Journal, Cagibi Lit, Better Than Starbucks, Mojave Heart Review, With Painted
Words, London Grip, Literary Heist and Your Daily Poem.
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