Today I turned seventy,
  and the clocks all faintly chimed

My hour glass near empty
  to mark the waning time

Weeks left on the calendar
  the moments more than days

With laughter most important now
  each memory through the haze

Today I turned seventy,
  and my dog he seemed to know

He whispered to my grandchildren,
  and their love began to flow

Bright sunshine through the window,
  but night is sure to come

The joy and pain of who I’ve been
  —to live on when I’m gone

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2018)