.....but my poems
their teeth they have not lost
despite my ageing body
still I'm happily tossed

in the endless sea of words
vibrating in each ripple
free as the winds-- steadfast
in every syllable

there is such splendour
in growing old-- I envisage
a new world of becoming
the calmness without rancour or rage

even unto the last night  
in the time of no returning
one more poem I will still write
though my hand might be trembling.