Walking to the kitchen I notice
a large part of old age
is trouble moving, my knee
remembers a rock
that didn't have trouble moving,
and the ankle reminds me
of a jump gone bad
in a crunching sound,
and my hair hurts
when I change my mind,
so I sit in a still rocker
and rethink an ancient myth.
Monday, December 28, 2009
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5 comments:
Smiles. Mike, we are the ancient myths!
But you're Still Rock-ing, aren't you?
Enjoyed this very much, Mike. Thank you for it.
excellent, best wishes for 2010
I love the line about hair hurting when you change your mind. It sounds like a lighter line than the rest of the poem, but still fits nicely. Wonderfully done.
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