who thinks like this…
as my old guy body
creaks and groans
concerto moans of all
its ow own, ow-ing
a debt to oneself that’s
so overdue, the collateral
collectors, are disinterested,
but a passerby attentive,
sees on the street, my attention
riveted to dollar bills
that went to greet the street,
slipping from my overly full-
crooked fingers-bent, my sad
hesitation to bend and retrieve,
offering their lithe services, but
I pride~demure, internally
reflective, that I need as well,
pilates classes more for my
the cri of the heart & soul,
more than this body, ruefully
bending, remembering, reflecting
that it is powerful pride, the last,
that goeth before the fall…

Fri 5:10AM
May 31 2024
In the same sunroom