Poetry Sunday

This year I'll be 66 years old ... not quite as superannuated as someone like Mike, but no spring chicken, either. That makes this poem mean all that much more to me ...

Fire

by Wyatt Townley

It's only the body
It's only a hip joint
It's just a bulging disc
It's only weather
It's only your heart
It's a shoulder who needs it
This happens all the time
It's very common
It's unusual
For people your age
For people your age
You're in great shape
Remarkable shape
It's nothing you did
The main thing is
It's temporary
It's only a doll
In a house that's burning.

It's only a doll/in a house that's burning. I guess that's as good a way to explain away the aches and pains as any.

Have a good day. More thoughts coming.

Bilbo