Anticipation used to be the best
emotion for excitement in my heart.
I forward-looked so well it warmed my chest,
enjoying most before events would start.
That’s why I didn’t fancy a surprise,
and friends who left plans loose deflected me
from wanting to connect. I analyze
this easily – there’s no chance to foresee.

I used to wonder what I’d do when old,
and facing future certainly less long.
But dwelling in my 8th decade – behold:
my wish to savor planning isn’t strong.
Instead I’m liking lack of pain or care
(right now no worry’s looming anywhere).