Life’s ending is short,
  its beginning unknown

The middle is long,
  chasing stone after stone

Memories most vivid,
  from decades ago

Feelings now drifting,
  like wind driven snow

Our seconds tick off,
  as minutes run down

The big picture fades,
  tracks left on the ground

Beginning or ending,
  the next step unclear

The last cut the deepest,
—to suture or sear

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)

I feel that there are times
when I could reach out my hand
and touch my own death.
This causes me no regret or fear
for I have lived in my own way-
Godless and lawless but
with a belief in knowing
what's right and wrong.
So, as my ghostdom awaits me
I shall not tremble in my shoes
I'll greet him with a wink
and my best angelic smile

                                      By Phil Roberts

Caught in the coils of indifference
It's so hard to want to care
About anything much
Even my flow of poetry
Has become a problematic prostate dribble
Such are the joys of old-fartdom
Come day go day
Wishing my aches and pains away
Life goes on

I remember things that used to worry me
What was I thinking of?
None of it mattered
Young people take the poses that once were mine
And they make me smile
With amused fondness and nostalgia
I am envious of their innocence
But mostly their energy
I need a nap
Life goes on

                           By Phil Roberts