At the foothills of vintage age
 you feel perceptibly less somber
 for there are only meager remains
 of mostly forgotten days -
       little to smile, rue or cry for
 and an amorphous
 yet obligingly finite future -
       trifling to put together or fight for.
So dear Chandra:
 here is a congratulation:
 It must be awesome -
 this imminent privilege of geriatrics
 and this stolen bit of transient freedom;
       the real laissez-faire to yearn
       and to die for.
 timorously cajoled 
 from time’s exacting, puritan dictum.
© Chandra S. , 2019
- 
                        Author:    
     
	Chandra S. (
 Offline) - Published: December 27th, 2019 12:37
 - Comment from author about the poem: I read about an old lady. When asked about the secret of her happiness at a ripe old age, she said, "I have no future to look forward to"
 - Category: Unclassified
 - Views: 15
 

 Offline)
			
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.