Blaine Paxton Hall
  Speaker, Author, Consultant
My Poetry - It's Never Too Late
Copyright 2017 by Blaine Hall   •    E-Mail:
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to change.  To revive.  To release.
My Mercedes Benz wore black tails
and a fedora; was well-groomed,
rock-reliable and utterly serious.

Gleaming and deeply reflective,
he spoke of always having been
here, and always here to stay.

Early on my marriage developed
Alzheimer's disease.  It became
a dead marriage trapped
inside a living legality
that I dutifully carried with
me for 350 thousand
miles in the somber and
very responsible hearse.

Here is my gold ring, eternal.
And here is a bottle of our
pink wedding champagne,
now finely aged.

And when married 17 years
I went to the divorce attorney,
it was simply
to withdraw
life support.

I traded the black luxury sedan
without blemish or mechanical defect,
for a prissy Prius, in flouncy
white satin skirts who
elegantly sips gasoline
like fine white wine.  Now
I'm looking for a woman
alive, a dance partner.

It is never too late to
experience innocence; to
resurrect hope,  To let go
the dirge for a quickstep.
It's Never Too Late