Ripe Old Age

poem by: E.J. Waling
Written on Mar 12, 2017 

We will all live
to a ripe old age.

If not here,
then probably
over there.

If not over there,

then defiantly
someplace else.

The mind is
everywhere
at once.

Experiences vary.

When I die in one place
the others simply
move on.

We will all live
to a ripe old age.

 

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Daniel Moskowitz commented on Dec 16, 2018 at 5:06pm
I just noticed this poem, thinking about aging this morning. I think we try to ESCAPE from out own aging processes, but this escape is futile.

 

 

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