Am I old?
I am overweight and my back hurts. I have a titanium knee and I've lost stamina.
But am I old?
My friends are raising the subject more than I'm used to. I hear wisdom cautioning that time is precious. I hear concern that anything can happen.
I can't keep up with my grand kids. I have to brace myself to hop up from a seated position.
I worry that I might not wake up from anesthesia.
I like to cook more than ever and I like to cook most for my family. I'm pulling my papers together just in case.
Does any of this make me old?
I will turn sixty-seven in August. That is three short of seventy. Seventy is old. Isn't it?
I only work at what I choose. I worry less.
Am I old?
Am I or am I not?
Here I am and the time is now. Here. And Now.
I have goals.
Write this book. Get it published. Acclaim.
Write another book. Same thing.
Influence my grand kids to be astonished. To notice. To be kind.
Stand in front of a moving train for my Jessica.
Smile in the morning: Hello dear JB. How did you sleep? Let's have a good day today!
Teach. Workshops. Develop my own. In Provincetown. By the sea.
Hold tight to my sexual sensual self. Passion. Wild passion for years ahead.
Landscape another yard. In Provincetown.
Back to Italy. Back to France. Forward to Elsewhere.
Does this sound like I am old?
Does it even matter?