jeremy rich

Getting Old

Hot air pushes my face
Scenery blurs by

“You know,
Grandma got lost
Last week…
Couldn’t remember
The way home”

Window grows tall with
The push of a button
Hum of engine is
Muffled
Air’s breath is silenced

Hand lightly on her forearm
Hard squeeze for good measure
Without words
I say I’ll never let go

“Found her a mile out of town
Scared and embarrassed”

Trees in peripheral still march by
Sorrow saturates my chest
Silence hangs
Like dirty drapes

Gaze wanders to the sky
Point to the horizon
Clouds hang like cake crumbs
On a blue table cloth.

“I’ve been looking at clouds lately”
She says.


Jeremy Rich has published several poems in collections like Watershed, Take Back The Night, Chantarelle’s Notebook, Ceremony, Thick with Conviction, Speedpoets, and others. He is currently an 8th grade Language Arts teacher in Colorado, but was a long time chef in California.