Driving at Night
Once upon a time,
my hair was brown and curly,
but now it’s straight
and as white
as this drifting snow
that clogs the windshield.
I smooth down my hair
with my fingers:
swollen knuckles,
crooked joints.
I burn with feverish thoughts
yet cold blood shivers
through my arteries.
Headlights
blind me in my good eye.
The other one’s useless
when I drive at night.
It’s a long time
since I last saw,
let alone touched,
my toes.
Putting on my socks
or tying my shoelace
is a morning no-no.
Short of breath,
of agility,
with no ability
to climb up stairs:
what happened
to my youth?
Where did
my childhood
go?
rogermoorepoet 
Time, time, we want more of it and yet we wish away half our lives expecting tomorrow to be better.
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Alas, too true. It reminds me of Abba and the amount of time I have spent waiting in railway stations and airports … “I’m wishing my life away” Everly Brothers …
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I always think about how everyone has Monday and wants to get straight to the weekend. Which I always think is a shame. I don’t mind Mondays so much. But in general I like what I do, too.
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Nothing wrong with Mondays: new week, fresh start. Lots of opportunities.
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That’s how I feel as well. 🙂
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Oh.dt is result of cruel time who is passing n lefting us alone with memories.you r true,dear sir,those memories come near in lonely nights.wonderful n heart touching lines.
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Thank you, Aruna. Getting old isn’t always easy. I am starting to realize what my parents and grandparents went through! It’s easier when I write about it, though. Then I can laugh at myself and my worries.
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Yeah.absolutely true.but i think-one man can be old by physicaly but not by heart if he has positive attitude.here i m posting a gazhal (a type of song) sung by malika pulhraaj n written by a sufi saint hafeez jalandhari.if u read it then u will feel what i m saying.
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