Old Age

How time goes racing now when there's no need to-- when there's so little farther left to go: over the river--under the trees. Time ought to lead us slow...slow! --Archibald MacLeish 1892-1982 We talk about bodily functions, what works and what doesn't. We talk about medications, and name them one by one hoping we will win the who has the most contest. We talk about obituaries written daily in the local paper, jokingly relieved when we are not in it. We talk about family and tell the same stories we have told and heard for decades, laughing or crying in certain places as if it is our first time hearing the telling~ knowing our world is getting smaller with each passing day, that soon we will be only names on a gravestone, trampled and forgotten in Time's relentless march.