Living the Aging Life

Samantha is a friendly cat.

She doesn’t ask for much.

She likes a well-filled belly.

She likes a gentle touch.

She likes to find a quiet place

where she can take a nap.

And she prefers that place to be

on some well-padded lap.

The rabbits have all disappeared.

They‘re absent from my yard.

Perhaps they’ve gone to find a place

where winter’s not so hard.

Perhaps they’ve gone to find a place

where they would rather be.

I hope wherever they have gone

it’s far away from me.

I’m writing to the President.

I only have one plea.

Can’t we agree upon One Time,

and then just let it be?

My candle burns for all the world.

Its flame stands clear and true.

It shines for people ev’rywhere,

and it also shines  for you.

There are clocks on the table

and clocks by the door.

And clocks I don’t know

 what they’re for.

There’s a clock on the stove

and clocks on the wall

and clocks on nails

running down the hall.

There are clocks by the bed

and a clock on my arm

and some with a shrill

wake up alarm!

There’s a clock in the car

and the microwave

and some are programmed

with times to save.

And they all have to be changed.

I’m changing my clocks an hour back.

The semi-annual Clock Attack.

It’s a stupid, useless, pointless chore.

I sure don’t know what it is for.

They’re messing with our time again,

a process I bemoan.

The time was working well for me.

Why can’t they leave it alone?

An “atmospheric river of rain”

is pouring from the sky –

erasing ling’ring mem’ries of

a summer that was hot and dry.

May peace be with you through this day.

May truth and honor guide you.

May wisdom mark the words you say.

May courage walk beside you.

My eggplant’s getting moldy.

It gets mushier ev’ry day.

I never plan to cook it.

It cost too much to throw away.