When I become old,
as I know I surely may,
what might I see and hear and feel
to fill each aged day.

Will there be mist upon my face,
a snowflake falling to my tongue?
Can I walk barefoot in the grass
as I did when I was young?

Will there be sounds of trickling stream,
a mighty ocean’s roar,
the deep, deep voice of a small tree frog
come at night through my open door?

Will hummingbirds wings beat too fast to see
as they hover over my flowering rose?
Will a seagull soar still-winged for an hour,
a quick gray mouse escape a talon’s close?

Will some kind lady return my smile,
a neighbor’s hand grasp firm on mine,
will the sun bake warm upon my back,
and a myriad night stars shine?

Well then!
Why not become old?

gusdaum, January 2014


About degus221

A Kansan who has migrated to Oregon.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to DECISIONS

  1. Ann Douglas says:

    I really like this!


Please Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s