he wonders where his life has gone
with so little of himself left to get up in the mornings
the playful boy has a new home
and now walks the banks of the river
skipping stones with other boys
the young builder puts away his tools
to watch other young men build things
the wise gray-haired gentleman
living to counsel others
forgets more than he remembers
and concentrates on not spilling his morning coffee
the old man, living all week for a sunday walk
just sits in his chair, watching birds on the feeder
thinking of all that has been
wondering why autumn leaves surrender to the winter snow
Poetic Alchemist 
Kai: Thank you. Hope you are well.
:-]
Pat: Thanks. Excellent reply to your son. LOL
My son asked me last year about getting old and watching birds. I snarled I’ve always watched birds.
Thanks Polona. Indeed that is true.
Nasra: Thank you. As they say, there’s alway tomorrow, or the next incarnation. (Unless of course one believes we go around but once).
Aurora: Thank you and glad you liked it.
Andrew: Thanks. Best not allow aging to get to you (us). That too is life. Songs can wait. The kids need your music more.
Floots: Thanks. And me too. I am growing to love the word “grace.” Everyday it means more and more to me.
reckon you’ve been watching me 🙂
grey hair toys and the bird feeder – that’s me
cheers
This one got me — maybe it’s just because I’m alone tonight, but I was really taken by this. I need to cheer up, though. 🙂
p.s.- I haven’t forgotten about the song, I’m just in the middle of getting school started.
This is excellent, Don!
There so much magic in this poem …its never been so poetical to grow old but here you are your brought the magic into to growing old a face that it is sad to look at but everyone of us has to go through
youth is wasted on the young, they say, and this sounds more true the older we get 🙂
nice one, don.
Dan: Hypothetical poem only. I have all my teeth and most of my hair. 🙂
Now, this is a nice one.
Are we getting closer to being there?