Old Lady Ranting : Birthday Poetry

Old Lady Ranting

I know I’m getting old

because I hate the cold

I get winded on a short walk

I can’t decipher slang talk,

the music is too loud

the traffic too fast-

I wonder how long

a pruning heart can last?

Will it carry a beat

past forty-three?

Because, that’s how old

I’m going to be!

I know I’m getting old

I keep stretching middle age,

my hand is starting to cramp

as I fill up this page.

My kids are growing up

soon they will all drive

and I have to wonder

will I truly survive?

Old folks hate stress

the kind teenagers invent

to make lives a big mess.

It’s starting to fade…

memories of young age,

I’m going to get trapped

In that senile cage.

“Oh quit that.” I say,

“It is just a day-

God help me when fifty

Comes my way!”