Tuesday, August 29, 2006


You perhaps have on a loose fall white dress
Your summer legs are brown and bare
You are in a hurry to not be late
Exhaled breath will get you there

You will blow in on a crisp breeze -
Morning scented with aroused air
Hop scotches my dwindling hair -
I’ll catch you as an autumn leaf

I will hold you there
In that room of sickness
We must cure
The only way we know how -

Well again at last
We’ll manage another misspent hour


Sue hardy-Dawson said...

A feel a deep penatrating sadness- a haunting loneliness

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Sue for the comment! I suppose the real sadness in this poem is that I am growing old in a surrounding world of young and new; that I am loved in the dusk of my years by those who have only just seen sunrise. Of course that is simultaneously sad and very happy too.

Pat Paulk said...

I like misspent hours!! I misspent most of my school years. Keep sending 'em off Russell!!

Russell Ragsdale said...

You can put my right on you mispent hours list! Thanks Pat, for the warm and wonderful words.

Crunchy Weta said...

Very autumnal.... fortunately we are entering spring in the southern hemisphere.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Thanks Glenn! Congratulations on the entry of Spring! Cheers