~

I'm standing here

       In this doorway

   Halfway between where I have been
And where I will go

     *And I can't help but cry tears of joy.

Ice* cold
Like my soul
     Growing older than old
  Melting away
         As the days get hotter
Why bother with the same things
      When everything changes
          And I can't escape the heat
   Of my heart as it finally feels
                   *Defeat

It's dark tonight
And I cannot breathe
The hands of time
Are slowly choking me
Tick Tick
Watch the color
Fade from my face
Tick Tock
Watch my body
Fall through space
Caught inside
These hands of time
Losing my grip
Losing my mind
Tick Tick
Why can't I see
What these hands
Want from me
Tick Tock
I'm fading fast
This life is just a memory
That can never last

A deadly task at hand , see the November broom sage conforming with the lay of the land
The smooth stones are secure in their creekside homes
Adolescent Crepe Myrtles abide in the company of elder Oaks
Every plant allotted soil and very much aware of their place
Under the ever meandering compression of man with a valuable lesson of humility and grace
Behold the wall builders , the ceiling setters , the clothed and the rambunctious
The soil breakers , the ravagers , the fire starters , the problem
solvers mingled with the war mongers
The breath of creation fueling their thirsted conflagrations
Behold "the thinkers" , destroyers and the manipulators* ..

Awakens and
rises from his recliner.

Peels off diaper, ******
a bronze-orange  stream.

Drinks Sanka with cream,
eats two Little Debbie cakes.

Views MSNBC from 7 a.m.-noon,
consumes a can of tuna and glass of milk.

Sleeps  from 12:30-4: 00 p.m., television drones,
supper—a bowl of oatmeal and an onion sandwich.

Tapes on a new diaper, watches MSNBC at 4:30 p.m.,
falls asleep, he is 87 years and four months old, lives alone.