Day: December 16, 2014

(last call)

one more and then gone

this night has come to a close

stand and leave the bar

© Dicky J Loweman 2014

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Church Candles

I happen to be fond of churches

I like their peace and quiet

Their serenity and cold

I find serendipity in the architecture

But most of all

I am always captivated by the prayer candles

Lit for change

Lit for memories of days and persons past

I find comfort in lighting these myself

I don’t necessarily say a prayer

It’s more a secret

A secret I can share with someone special

Perhaps living, perhaps gone

But always just between the two of us

Sent to let them know I’m still thinking of them

They’re still in my heart

And won’t be soon forgotten

© Dicky J Loweman 2014

Old

I’ve grown old

I look old

And I feel it, too

My hair has receded and turned peppered grey

My beard has greyed right along with my hair

Distinguished, they say

Horse shit, say I

It’s just plain old

I seem to acquire a new pain or kink

Almost every single day

I sometimes hurt in places I didn’t know one could

Fortunately, the pains often dissappear

As quickly and mysteriously as they came

I have to get my eyes checked twice a year

My vision is going that fast

My hearing is pretty bad, as well

I’m sure I miss good chuncks of conversations

But, I’ve mastered “The Nod”

Telling whomever that I’m listening

And following right along

I can’t stay up all night, anymore

Partying, like I would do in the old days

I like to think I do, but the truth is the truth

I’m usually in bed by 10:00

And I rise early

Like 6:00 am early

And I creep around, quietly

As if I don’t want to wake the still sleeping young

I do this even though I live alone

I never used to

I guess it’s just a trait one aquires as one ages

I need to eat three times a day

No more mac and cheese or PB and J

I need real food

And not just for comfort, but for the actual energy

Without, I can hardly get out of bed

And the pains seem much worse

I have a elder’s need to clean

Clean the house, wash the car, clean myself

I focus slightly more on my clothes

Not at all in the name of style

Only suitable or socially acceptable in appearance

Never know who you’ll meet

All this, at the ripe old age of 41?

Yeah, that’s right

41

Now all of this isn’t really shocking

My friends my age are all the same

And none of us are knocking on death’s door

But it just goes to show

How you shouldn’t take too much for granted

How you need to stop and smell the roses

Life has always moved fast

And, I guess I like it that way

But there is a day

We all have it

When we wake up

And realize

We’ve grown old

© Dicky J Loweman 2014