Old Enough
I’m old enough
that I sometimes don’t remember being young.
I’m old
enough that my skin and aura-faces wrinkle and succumb.
A once
swift flowing stream has been reduced to tinkle and hum.
I can spent
all day tinkering around and tinkling
but when I
go to bed I’m given some reprieve
in dreams
of glorious streams a twinkle
that
implore me to waken, arise and…
tinkle.
I’m old enough
that I sometimes don’t remember being
old enough that
I sometimes couldn’t remember being
young.
I’m old
enough to be grateful for my family and friends
and hope to
never be old enough to pass a broken fence to mend.
Should we
rendezvous and I shan’t remember you don’t dismay
as I’ll likely
be happy to meet the same new people every day.
Tinkle and hum…
© David Girard 19/11/19
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