At Seventy I can no longer fly under the radar
At 70 I can no longer fly under the radar,
And now my family has started making plans for me,
That decides how the 70-year-old me,
Should spend any time left to me,
That they see as uncontestably for me.
Never mind the health of me,
With a heart that came through chemotherapy with me
Lungs that can walk in the fog with me,
Knees that can still move around the joint with me,
A back that works like a crane for me,
No glasses on the picture of me,
That adorns the drivers’ license that belongs to me.
Never mind the fitness of me,
Never mind they just saw me stand one leg to put my own sock on me,
Never mind I just mowed their lawns and then my own,
With only the sweat expected from a 40-year-old me.
Never mind the cognitive response left in me,
Or that 3 dementia tests have not failed me,
With the last in 2024 with a comment from the doctor to me,
That I did very well for a 70-year-old me.
But really gets to me,
Is that there are others in their 40's
Who look and act older than me,
Who fly under the radar that pings me,
As long as they can remember their age compared to me.
Of course they may well die under the radar younger than me.
Which makes me glad to be me,
Even when I have to pay a fee to prove I am still me,
Just because of the age of me.
Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2024
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