Whittling Down
As we age, we whittle down
The things that we can do
Or the ways that we can do them
So we last the whole day through.
I’ve whittled down my exercise
And how much I can drink.
My energy’s been whittled
And my brain’s begun to shrink.
I’ve whittled my acquaintances,
Though some were not my fault
And my memory’s been whittled
Or locked in a keyless vault.
I’ve whittled down my travels
And my need to shop and buy.
Some hobbies have been whittled,
Which I loved; I don’t know why.
My knife is sharper than my mind
So I won’t be belittling
The ways it goes about its job,
As time goes by, of whittling.
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