I feel too fortunate to list aloud
the goods I have around me now I’m old:
my little Berkeley cottage with its crowd
of friendly skunks and possums, and the bold
intelligence of crows;
my offspring fledged to full careers,
affectionate to me,
in love with those to whom their faith is pledged,
and doing well enough with progeny;
a parent yet alive and not too hard to daily call;
two brothers I still like;
four days most weeks to contemplate my yard;
at least three sunrises to ride my bike.

I’m mostly healthy, mostly sleep enough,
and thinking that I’ve mostly earned my stuff.