Aging (a six-word story)

Greywood ponders when it’ll become driftwood.

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Poetic Just Us (An encore)

(5th and last of a mini-series of taking poetic license)

Three players on the sidewalk,
Watching passersby and listen to their talk;
That’s just us.

Together we used to make music;
We were quite therapeutic;
That was just us.

We played rock, funk, and blues;
Now we never make the news;
That’s just us.

We’ve been put out to pasture,
Open to any snatcher;
That’s just us.

You may also want to read the rest of the series:
1st
2nd
3rd
4th

Coming of Old Age

What went up quickly, now stays down mostly.

Image: Pixabay

In years past every weekend
Was wearing the latest trend.
Now it’s reading through the daily
To see who’s who in the obituary.

Shopping used to be for the frivolous,
Fun, fabulous, and more,
Now it’s become problematic,
To even find a ride to the store.

Eenie, meenie, minie, moe,
Catch the devil on my toe,
Should we stay, or should we go?
Where I point will be our destiny,
A place for us to spend eternity.

Let me serve you a deliciously deadly meal,
So we can rest together for real.
I’ll put on a red flannel teddy,
After supper, we’ll go to beddie,
And go with the flow and just be ready . . .