Becoming Old

A collection of poems on aging, such as: I See Myself Becoming Old My closet is full of suits I don't wear anymore. Nothing I need to wear them for. There are days when I stay in my pajamas till noon. I picture my heirs looking at my wardrobe one day asking "Can you think of anyone who can use these or should we give them to Goodwill?" Or, "Would you like this tie as a remembrance of Dad?" As I read the obits of the recently deceased, which I took to doing a few years ago, I compare their ages to mine. Then there's the arthritis in my hands and feet. My left foot aches when I walk and I suffered a rupture in a time-worn tendon not long ago. I have more trouble lifting things and getting around. Don't jump over puddles anymore for fear of the damage I might do coming down. (No more kicking up heels for me.) What will it be next, the incipient cataracts? My hearing isn't what it used to be. I don't think I need a hearing aid yet, though my daughter disagrees. Or will it be something unforeseen like that ill-fated tendon? I see myself becoming old, yet it's as if I were watching it happen to somebody else.

Dettagli