Living the Aging Life

I’m going to eat my way through the Virus.

It’s about all that I can do.

I’ll eat my way through the virus.

Then, I’ll stop if it ever gets through.

A few tenacious, soggy leaves still cling to the wind-swept tree.

The leaves are quite determined to avoid their destiny.

I watch the leaves and wonder if there’s a lesson here for me.

Can sheer determination ever avoid one’s destiny?

I thought the (expletive) President

would be the news this year.

I thought that vicious politics

were what we had to fear.

I never thought Elusive Death

would stalk at every hand.

I never thought a Virus

would just decimate the land.

The Podiatrist says my feet are shot.

That’s worrisome, ‘cause they’re what I’ve got.

I’ve depended on them at every stage, and,

to get me through this Ripe Old Age.

The COVID deaths are rising. 

The vaccines don’t bring an end.

The chilling death rate spirals

in a never-ending trend.

If I were the Queen of England

I would have myself a maid.

I would have myself a driver,

and a secretarial aide.

Someone else would do the dishes.

Someone else would sweep the floors.

Someone else would do the laundry.

Someone else would do the chores.

There’d always be someone around

to do the things I ask,

and I wouldn’t have to do myself

every daily, mundane task.

I pray for you a sharp, quick mind

with mental acuity,

for rapid understanding,

and an excellent memory.

Two vaccines bring a glimmer of hope,

yet thousands are still to die.

The specter of death hovers over the earth.

Families are left to cry.

We’re just about to the shortest day,

with drear, dark, rainy skies of gray.

Soon our days will be minutes longer.

The thought of it makes my mind grow stronger.

Every night about half past five,

I serve my kitties their supper.

Every night about half past eight,

they Meow! for a picker-upper!