Of An Age

Having arrived at this stage in life,

The children grown, still loving the wife,

I take a gander to see what I see,

To evaluate what’s become of me.

The looks are gone and so is the hair,

Random emanations disturb the air.

Aches and pains with every chore,

The sacred temple is no more.

Names are difficult to recall,

And of days long past, near nothing at all.

Once thought a whiz at Jeopardy

The questions now come infrequently.

So after reviewing the now and then,

And contemplating what will happen, and when,

A voice arises inside my head,

The voice conveying a sense of dread,

Telling me not to think ahead

It is what it is, and is best left unsaid.

But then another comes to the fore

And in tranquil tone says here is the score:

There is nothing to fear, nothing too dire

You need not worry about what may transpire.

So I ask myself what is the story?

Should I care, should I worry?

Is the train coming at three sixteen?

Is the trip seasonal or evergreen?

Was a dispatch received from the oracle at Delphi?

Or are there bats up there in the belfry?

After thinking timelessly for a while,

The unrest subsides, I have a smile.

I have the answer that I sought

And it is exactly what I thought.

KEN WALTON

Spofford