I rise to face yet still more life again
And know my day will be about my age
Through sight that makes all things appear opaque
I hear about each third word spoken clear.
I walk with cane a slow but sure tempo
And get to where I aim without much fuss
Yet still it seems I burden those who care
To take the time to bare my years nonpluss.
Each time I rise to face my life once more
Trumps thoughts of laying still without regard
For pains one takes to move upon this earth
Or see and hear with clarity implored.
I thank my Lord for each new day He gives
And givers who see beyond one’s struggle
With patience and always kind words spoken
Dignity and respect to me maintained.
Copyright © Michael Wegman | Year Posted 2014
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