Love
Long retired now; but the
clock yet plays a paramount
roll, when it comes to daily
activities -- still not my
own boss: Doctor's have
schedules, fiber intake for
out-go, often unpredictable;
sign on my toilet door, "Soon
to be occupied!"
Drops of days
have become gushes, rushes
toward an unknown horizon;
the sun now a flicker
like those old black and white
cinema I saw in the theater
as a youth, till the bulb went out,
and the boos and stomping
began...doubt that I would
notice most loud clamor anyway --
all my senses a lot duller
except an increasing tremor of
fear I hide --
climbed a balcony this morning,
a short one --
the old Juliet in a sun-chair,
doing her crossword, fondly
looked up: the smile was distant
but familiar~ her words soothing
and reassuring: "what's a
4 letter word for 60 years, in
sickness and in health loyally
shared?"
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