The days become less;
night slips to a deeper dark
where I cannot see.
I take a side chair,
and watch the grandchildren play.
Oak leaves fall outside.
I fall from my chair,
then laugh off my clumsiness.
I ache hours later.
I fear for the day,
when my peers begin to die,
and all is silent.
The night is still and quiet;
birds wait for the sun to sing.
(November 26, 2023)
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