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On Angels and Messengers

Sunday, May 2, 2010


I'm too old to be young again.
I'm in too much pain to run.
Who needs another mountain, when
You just climbed over nine or ten?
Why re-fight those battles won?

I hear the children as they play
With laughter and exhilaration.
They submit to what the grown-ups say,
When they know there is a better way.
So, each day ends with aggravation

There is no need for sweat or speed
With music, art, or pen and pad.
I'm quite content to sit and read.
Bones won't break, mistakes don't bleed.
See? Not so young is not so bad.

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