“From Cradle to Cane”

 

Now an old man in my Lazy-boy chair,

my hair, once thick black, now hardly there.

Born with a gummy, toothless grin,

now I try hard not to dribble, down my chin.

 

No teeth at birth, not many left today,

only six of them left, not much to display.

Then I had a pacifier, now a plastic straw,

sucking soft pudding, with a slack jaw.

 

At 1, I crawled on my hands and knees,

at 84, crab-shuffle, joints that freeze.

From a crib with tight soft blanket wrap,

to compression socks, and a noon catnap.

 

From a toy rattle and catch-all bib,

to the rattling pill bottle, and a loose rib.

As a baby I laughed, knew no fears,

I don't show ... or shed ... or shed any tears.

 

The world keeps moving, but I stay in one place,

brain still working, I'm out of the rat race.

Wearing Velcro orthopedic shoes,

reading the crap they call breaking news.

 

I've traded my youth for a much slower pace,

finding peace and contentment, still a bit of a chase.

But hey, do not mourn ... it's not all that bad,

there are small perks in old age, I have had.

 

Every new wrinkle

a victory, not a backslide,

so here's to my old age …

 

damn ... what a curious ride.

​

-Peter