Old Guy Desires
I still look through
young man’s eyes,
though
skin and bones are
aging,
my mind’s eye
disagrees with it,
despite
what mirrors
displaying.
How could I have
these coltish
thoughts,
"I should
be out there
playing,"
some say it’s time
to pack it in,
and spend
more time with
praying.
This can't be, I
shall not let,
existence
be simply delaying,
the inevitable, the
lonely slide,
death’s
scythe intense
belaying.
So off I go to enjoy
romp,
though
hair is quickly
graying,
rather spend my time
sowing,
than on
the winter haying.
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