Do people still tell bawdy jokes in bars?
It’s far too long since I have been or heard.
The months elapse like days – momentum jars
me like some glimpses through my eyes: absurd
how lined my face is now, this trite surprise.
I always knew I’d age, but never guessed
that as I sought the avenue to wise,
I’d nightly keep selecting ways to rest.

I need to get out more. I’ll have to spur
myself to play away from couch or bed,
resist the inclination to demur
the way I fight the fear of falling. Dead
I’ll be before too long, or older yet.
A gambol now is how to win this bet.