Category Archives: Aging

End Game

My mother says of late she’s glad she’s old.At 94 she’s odd, but that’s not new.She’s lost her spouse and siblings, but she toldme that’s not what her blues are owing to.Disgusted with the politics and press,she claims she can’t … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Civics, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

The Napping Chair

At last I own the perfect napping chair. It took a lifetime to acquire this upholstered seat abutting shaded air affording back support and ankle bliss. The view from it is manna for my eyes, although its comfort bids my … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Home, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Oxygen

I recognize a cultural motif concerning breathing. Millions have awoke to knees-on-necks and choke holds, and the grief of systematic bias. Victims spoke forever who were muzzled and unheard, now constrained to orate through a mask. Compromised by virus or … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Civics, Coronaverse, Health, Poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Disagreement

I seldom take prescription medicine, but after recent implant surgery (tooth number 4, for core titanium), the dentist wrote up pain relief and more. A 10-day course has been my regimen of purple/pink Amoxicillin caps. And I was well at … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Health, Poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Benign Neglect

My garden attitude’s benign neglect; I never went for soil on my hands or stooping. I’m so old my neck is wrecked from telephones and tension – I don’t need to stress my knees and back as I’d expect if … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Coronaverse, Flora, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

PseudoStops

I seldom see the good in boundaries; I tend to play at work and work at play. I set a goal, approach it by degrees, but when it’s reached it doesn’t go away. Some friends I love and honor lack … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Personality, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Generating

I feel I owe the kids apology: we meant to change the world in ‘68. Somehow my cohort lost its energy; we settled in for goods instead of great. Apparently the time was wrong for us. We marched and rioted, … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Civics, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

To Sleep

I think I like to sleep, but I’m not there to judge; it’s only as I start to fall to slumber, that I’m comfortably aware my latest thoughts are what I can’t recall. As I relax, I set my hands … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Cognition, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

The Last Time I Die

I doubt my death will be a pretty sight; I’ve lived too long to make a lovely corpse. Most likely I’ll be in a bed, and might be looking like the sort of beast that warps a grandson’s dream to … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Family, Love, Poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Tunnel Vision

My best friend’s friend, a woman known to thrive until this year’s retirement, declares that everyone she knows past sixty-five has lost at least a little brain. She swears it looking husband-ward, at hers and those of half a dozen … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Cognition, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment