I Am Waddling Now

Is that a ghost? I think. Catching a wisp of a traveling speck in my eye. I turn and it is gone. But back soon enough. Finally see a doctor. It’s a floater, he tells me. You will get used to them after a bit and they will go away. That was six years ago. I do not see them unless I speak of them Or write of them. There goes one now. I used to have dog ears; I could hear a whisper from the back of an auditorium Now I can barely hear the person who is sitting beside me on a subway. I am not sure if my mind is consciously drowning them out Or if I truly am losing my hearing. There is arthritis in both of my ankles. I am waddling when I walk now. Thanks to the extra weight or my unsteadiness Not sure really. Life is an adventure at sixty-eight. Live every second now, young ones. You will not want to think back and wish you had.