Sleep Changes

Sleep patterns alter as our bodies age:
From infancy when naps fill day and night,
decreasing dream time till we reach the stage
of teen ability to sleep in light
of morning, anywhere and any time,
to young adulthood woken by our kids,
to solid aR Ee eM when in our prime,
to broken rest at night as aging bids.

We seem to take development in stride.
We don’t appear to miss the baby sleep,
the college-age all-nighters, getting fried
and sleeping in. I wonder why you weep
at waking often now, before the dawn.
I’ll play the hand age deals me, with a yawn.

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

EMTelling

I’m older than I ever thought I’d get
when I was young and forecasting, and yet
my mother’s still alive and doing well
at 95 (which shows one cannot tell
the future with degrees of certainty).
I don’t desire any prophecy
about my date of death – I’d rather not
anticipate that lonesome final spot.

But there is something I would pay to know.
I hate to see the doctor. I avoid
immersion in the common protocols.
I’m rather healthy, as statistics go,
and frankly I’d be more than overjoyed
to know when I will have to make that call.

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

Real Food Problem

I have some gastronomic memories
I won’t forget: the flavor of a peach,
ripe yellow-gold with sour/sweet degrees
of juice; the texture avocados reach –
that fiber-hiding fatty satin feel.
Fresh produce often carries flavor really
fine, but there’s a risk beneath the peel:
the bad of inner rot or flesh that’s mealy.

Real food sometimes involves a taste roulette
I never find in processed packaged snacks.
This candy bar will taste the way I bet.
That box of silage won’t host bug attacks.
I crave authentic bites, and I conclude
there’s always competition for my food.

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

The Apprentice

I don’t think he knows
how stupid the show was. How
many didn’t watch.

Posted in Civics, Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Re-Intro

I turned to body health at 35.
I’d had a turn of hospital that spring:
A bad cascade a challenge to survive,
that taught me my mobility was king.
I took up daily exercise, and learned
returns so great I never retrogressed.
Three decades passed, I read, and then I spurned
all forms of sucrose. Well, I never guessed
how little I would miss it, how that led
to finding pasta mushy, to eschew
most days most meals most any form of bread.
My body keeps reminding me it’s true,
and yesterday I found a log I penned
3 years ago, inspiring me again.

Posted in Food, Health, Poetry, Writing | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Pre-Grief

I sought by Internet. I tried to track
him down in Google, Facebook, and obit.
I recollect the coronary plaque
he once confessed, and hypertension pills.
Conjecturing about a heart attack
or COVID, I began assuming death.
But then he called. I had no time to yak.
I’m writing uninformed like counterfeit,
before tomorrow, when I’ll call him back.

(Magic 9)

Posted in Love, Poetry, Writing | Tagged , | Leave a comment

CGG

About a quarter century ago,
I met a man amusing and so smart
I wanted to be with him, even though
he packed a gun and phobias. My heart
indulged him through some mania and rants,
but we were not in sync. We dulled to friends.
He sought the solitude the desert grants.
We seldom spoke again; we’d other ends.

I recollect his keen intensity,
the time he said he wanted me beside
him when he died. That struck me recently –
I listened to a message, and I tried
to call him at the number I last had –
I found his phone was gone. Is he? I’m sad…

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

Drop Off

The ballot done, I sealed the envelope.
I signed the designated line with care.
And feeling less like some old misanthrope,
I sought a way to move it, safe, to where
it will be tallied. I had time to spare
and could have mailed it, but we drove to court
and handed it to tongs. It seemed as fair
as masks we wear, exciting like a sport.

(Huitain)

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

How I Vote

We used to mark our ballots while away
from home and media, beside the sea,
when we were young and married. We would weigh
the issues and then vote with certainty.

So much has changed. We’re not together now;
we’re old but I have not forgotten how
to make a choice, by research and the thought
of saving all the kids from what we’ve wrought.

At first I scan the pages and put pen
to ovals I am sure about, and next
the candidate and proposition text
is read and some are marked and, third, again
I read and make for each my final pick,
in hopes we’ll cure the body politic.

Posted in Civics, Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Topics

In writing poetry most every day,
and posting new work seven times a week,
I sometimes have to search for what to say.
Of late the only subject on my mind
is this election season, holding sway
in all October thought, and bidding fair
to actually curtail the dark dismay
that almost overwhelmed. So I will speak
of nothing else. Inspired, I’ll obey.

(Magic 9)

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