Of all your substacked poems, almost without exception, elegant evocations of your truth, this one inspires me the most. At risk of muddying your meaning by commenting (you spoil a masterpiece by not knowing when to stop adding brushstrokes) I will say that a young man’s tears are interpreted as weakness and an old man’s tears as irrelevant, perhaps expected as accompaniment to the infirmity of age. But, per your poem, they are not physiological lamentations as much as they are a reward, a badge of honor, for having been strong enough to reach an advanced age. They proclaim “I was strong enough to master my expressions of weakness in my youth and now I have the luxury and the courage to display what I actually feel.” Poignancy be damned! Full speed ahead until we are underground.
Of all your substacked poems, almost without exception, elegant evocations of your truth, this one inspires me the most. At risk of muddying your meaning by commenting (you spoil a masterpiece by not knowing when to stop adding brushstrokes) I will say that a young man’s tears are interpreted as weakness and an old man’s tears as irrelevant, perhaps expected as accompaniment to the infirmity of age. But, per your poem, they are not physiological lamentations as much as they are a reward, a badge of honor, for having been strong enough to reach an advanced age. They proclaim “I was strong enough to master my expressions of weakness in my youth and now I have the luxury and the courage to display what I actually feel.” Poignancy be damned! Full speed ahead until we are underground.
Max said it. I won't add my own brushstrokes.