a poem some days (exceptindreams) wrote,
a poem some days

76 | Philip Schultz


Philip Schultz

My bones aren’t what they used to be; my eyes ache,

as if I’ve been reading an ancient text by candlelight.

My back and knees creak. I’m happy if the car starts

and I can walk the dogs along the ocean which looks

a little less robust. It replenishes itself with stretching

and long cleansing breaths. The sun is another story.

It’s beginning to show its age. Perhaps we’ve enjoyed 

enough springs and everything is getting a little redundant.

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