Up early before the light paints the sky,
I sit down in front of the computer
and get a stuffed possum for my daughter.
Kids like the strangest things.
He's cute, Daddy.
Rent gets paid.
Electric. Phone and cable.
Groceries, cat food, cat litter.
The usual shit
that keeps a man off the streets.
Then there's a book.
Another poetry collection
out in the world.
Cover finished. Pages printed.
Now comes the hard part.
Post it. Promote it.
Tell the world it exists.
Maybe somebody buys it.
Maybe they don't.
Meanwhile,
the leaves have started turning
outside my window.
Squirrels are digging furiously
in the yard.
That chill is back in the air.
Funny how that happens.
You spend the summer
trying to get somewhere
in the beautiful green,
and then October is standing there
with its cold hands in its pockets.
Soon it'll be winter.
Then another spring.
Another summer.
Older on the fairway.
Maybe less slices and hooks.
And somewhere in there
you realize you're not twenty anymore.
I'll be sixty next month.
Son of a bitch.
I remember being young enough
to think sixty
was practically in the grave.
Now I'm looking at it
from the other side
of the hourglass.
I've paid some bills,
lost some friends,
written some books,
and made a lot of mistakes.
I hope the years gave me wisdom,
because they didn't do a damn thing
for my posture and eyesight.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 6th, 2026 07:55
- Comment from author about the poem: I am happy to announce the release of my latest book, Searching for Nod. It is available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Searching-Nod-Thomas-W-Case/dp/B0HLMKLS9L/ref=sr
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 29
- Users favorite of this poem: Paul Bell, Teddy.15, Tristan Robert Lange

Offline)
Comments11
excellent work
ty
good write my friend
Thanks
most welcome
A lovely write from the other side. I have been there and sliding down fast that side as well.
Thank you.
Always most welcome Thomas
I think the day you get wise is the day they lower you into the ground in that recycled casket that saves the planet.
Everyday is a day to play when you feed the cat pay the bills walk the kids to school.
With you on the old people.
When I was young, jesus they were old.
Thanks, my friend.
A fine Poem as usual. We shouldn't grumble about getting Old , as not many people enjoy the Privilege as Mark Twain once said.
Good point. Thanks.
My Pleasure.n
Good write T.
ty
Nicely written Thomas.
I wish you the best on the release of your new poetry book. I hope it does well.
- Syd ๐
Thanks, my friend.
Keeps going faster and faster. I swear each decade you seem to hit a milestone where the way you think finally catches up with your age. I just turned 30 two months ago and it amazes me how different I feel.
Thank you, my friend.
Thomas, thereโs something wonderfully matter-of-fact about this. Life keeps collecting its payments, but youโre still writing books, loving your kid, and moving forward. Happy early birthday, my friend. ๐น๐ค๐๐ฏ๏ธ๐ฆโโฌ
Thanks, my friend.
Wonderful poet. ๐น
Thank you, sweet Teddy.
Your life in a nutshell depicted so well. Wisdom has definitely been granted judging by the verse written and shared. Old age will creep in unawares with itโs challenges showing us how frail we are but living well despite it all is where you prove your worth ๐๐ผ
So true. Thanks.
Most welcome ๐enjoy the weekend
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