rejoice, in the fact,
these old knees, hip,
still carry me through
another day.
another day walking freely,
with no artificial aids.
at this time of life,
as advanced as it is,
time to accept what is
and let bygones be gone.
no sense shaking up past;
let past lie where it must.
yah, past, be gone with you.
chickens are fighting in my head.
if that isn't bad enough;
fox are preparing a raid
inside my chicken scratching head.
justifiable homicide, some may say.
just how it goes, others claim.
all we ever wanted to know about
polyphonic but were afraid to ask.
mishmash of memories
periphery of thoughts
demanding attention
of this tired old brain
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