“Sixty-Three” (Fooling around with words and rhymes) Today? Sixty-Three. Must confess: that’s me. Seven years old times nine; Twenty-one years times three. I would not choose younger; I’ve learned far too much, And seen too much wonder To depress the clutch And cease moving forward. Not much for nostalgia. Let the past be the past— No memory neuralgia. What once hurt is buried. What’s sweet lies ahead. I’m free and unhurried— A most pleasant “instead.” Will I live to see man on Mars? I’ve no idea. But should I make it? Hooray! And I hope that I’ll seeya At some big celebration Of “Mars Day” somewhere Wretchedly old and wrinkled, But with nary a care… ’Cause what’s left to care about When one’s reached “old age?” Facts being facts, we’ll soon “Exeunt” this worn stage. (Or sooner, anyway, than our Kids and grandkids, If all works as intended.) Actuarial grids Lengthen our odds as they Shorten our lives. So let’s all make damn merry While each of us survives. I’m off to see Christmas On this, the Sixth Day— Not six geese a laying, But a vivid display. Lights, trees and fountains; Circulating toy trains… All sorts of wonders that Were, with great pains, Erected for the joy Of many onlookers. I will be one of those. No chore pressure cooker For me on this day, nor For my darling wife. This is how I choose to spend The rest of my life: Her, me and the dogs. There’s still much in store As I move through the first Day of Year Sixty-Four. © Verse-Case Scenario, LLC 2014 ------ I should have hammered the crap out of this sucker in terms of scansion, meter, etc. But screw it—we’re off to Longwood. See you tomorrow, and thank all of you for the wonderful Birthday greetings. They warm my heart, as do all of you.
Posted on: Tue, 30 Dec 2014 13:53:48 +0000
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