OLD AGE

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OLD AGE

Old age creeps on relentlessly,
Each week it gets a stronger grip;
Some subtle changes we won't see,
They seem a momentary blip.

These blips more frequently recur,
Until we find they're part of life;
More people start to call us "Sir",
Each blip adds to our daily strife.

All movements were so natural,
We never gave them any thought;
No longer is life magical,
Each movement now with danger fraught.

We find we must accept the fact,
That we have joined the growing ranks;
We now must think before we act,
And for each triumph offer thanks.

Sol the Sage

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