Tag Archives: Aging

Forecasting

Posted on December 27, 2019 by sputterpub

I’ve heard it’s hard to forecast over sea: the ocean brings surprises to the West. The instruments detect a tendency, but here my window tells the weather best. My phone says we’ll have clouds but I see rain outside, and … Continue reading →

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

The Ages of Advice

Posted on December 20, 2019 by sputterpub

I early understood the righteous path away from murk and chaos, tending toward fierce honesty. I bellowed truth with wrath and passion – then my wisdom got ignored. In middle life I learned it wasn’t bad to be so disregarded, … Continue reading →

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

The Thing Is

Posted on December 16, 2019 by sputterpub

I want to give this observation tongue: (I’m lately often somnolent or cold) – they say that youth is wasted on the young, but leisure’s seldom useful to the old.

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

Cold

Posted on December 9, 2019 by sputterpub

There seems to be something about growing old, or maybe I’ve lost too much fat, but mornings and evenings I’m feeling so cold, I’m wearing a sweater and hat.

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

A Great Age

Posted on December 4, 2019 by sputterpub

The vet described my dog’s old age as “great” when she surpassed her breed’s expected span. He used the adjective to designate immensity instead of good or grand. Likewise your age is great at 94, although you seem to hate … Continue reading →

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

Whether

Posted on December 3, 2019 by sputterpub

The sun is setting earlier tonight than it did yesterday. We ascertain we daily have a lesser length of light, but none among us knows when it will rain, or if the winds will hibernate this year. Will quenching water … Continue reading →

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

Mostly (A Silent Reading)

Posted on November 26, 2019 by sputterpub

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, … Continue reading →

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

Senescence

Posted on October 31, 2019 by sputterpub

Like reaching for a smoke after you quit, like crossing knee-on-knee inviting pain but helplessly habitual, it’s fit that I should miss you, even though disdain and criticism are the strokes you gave me growing up and aging with you … Continue reading →

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

The Ugly Ride

Posted on October 28, 2019 by sputterpub

It’s true the bus is short and takes a route less popular than others near my place, and I was riding outside the commute hours, but noting every boarding face, it struck me how unhandsome and unfit my fellow passengers … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Misanthropy, Poetry, Transit, Uncategorized | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Psomiphobia

Posted on October 24, 2019 by sputterpub

Avoiding bread, I never meant to claim the staff of life is poison or impure. I’m eating keto rolls, but all the same I think the bread’s the lesser taste – I’m sure to like the tuna salad, boiled eggs, … Continue reading →

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