The Hoary Memories In Winter
a day in january
in winter with hoary and grey clouds
the hoary thistles in the garden up over there
the hoary thistles with hoary poppies
the hoary frost on them
the hoary mist up and down
no finches, no birds of any kind
except the black crows and ravens
crowing up and there
hoaring covered everywhere
a hoary man strolles on them
with unsteady steps and paces
what is he after
what is he looking for
what is he searching
look at the ancient houses there
some tumbling down
some with plasters all gone
what the hoary man looks for
what is he after
his childhood may be
his memories may be
and his lost..gone mother..he tries to see
in this hoary mist
he has so missed
and longed for
he stopped in the hoary mist as if hearing a voice
calling
oh son..come on..come now the meal is ready
he felt himself playing in the hoary garden
this must be his mother call
addressing and calling him from above
calling him to her new home
cause she has missed him too
oh the hoary grasses
oh the hoary houses
oh the hoary man
oh the hoary woman
oh the hoary world
oh the hoary graves
oh the hoary memories
are we not approaching hoariness
why did we live so quickly
how did our lives finished and faded suddenly
metin sahin
poem by Metin Sahin
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