Today’s an old-lady day:
I’ve got nothing much worthy to say
but let me survive
and come out alive
or forget about watching the play.
The rumblings and fumblings of fear
in theory are common, not queer,
but they roil in my gut
and up will not shut
totally impervious to cheer.
A chance to discuss my malaise –
the visible end to my days –
makes me dizzy and cross
and quite at a loss
while my eyes focus inward and glaze.
I’m down to a snippet of brain
I won’t be me fully again
but here’s to remind me
to put past lives behind me
and keep what I’ve still got to gain.