Older Still

As old as living room plant

Outgrown its clay pot

Boistroisly tripping you up

On morning journey to work-desk

Still life listens carefully

For soft speckles of dust

Thrown asunder by beating rain

On window's glass

Tiny vibrations shaking life of dust

Room aging gracefully

While occupants reverse in age

As old as morning coffee

Like ice and bitter

Old as heartache

That never leaves

But just goes quietly

Into quiet spaces in the day

Await conversation

Await conversion

Sleep until daybreak

Until dreams of waxen leaves

and golden dust shaken up

by raindrop vibrations

Older still