I can’t really be in a big hurry.
I’ve never ever had so much money
With so few things I need to spend it on.
I sometimes get discounts at restaurants,
Where people excuse my obesity.
Children are now less fearful of my face,
Which day by day grows more grandfatherly.
It’s true I think about dying a lot,
Every left-arm twinge cause for concern.
Yet every morning is victory.
I relish reading poems like this, i.e. on one's musings about getting old(er) and/or taking a gander at the past decades. I reckon it's the candor and acceptance in them that appeal to me. ;) Cheers.
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