MUSINGS ON THE VERANDA AT FAIRVIEW GARDEN FARM, WHILE OTHERS ARE TOURING THE GROUNDS...

I have nothing to read

And no errands to run

I am sprawled in my chair

My face to the warm sun

Up above--leafless tree

All branched stark in a pose

I'm not moving--asleep

A fly lands on my nose

The tall pepper tree droops

Its dry leaves to the ground

And some tiny red berries

Are down there to be found

Old dead vines on the trunk

There's an ancient tree house

A fine refuge for children

And--oh--many a mouse

Some vague traffic I hear

But far off in the street

Fresh manure spread out

Gives my nostrils a treat

I have nothing to do

A rare moment indeed

And just being myself

Is now all that I need

AT NINETY YEARS OF AGE, JUNE 13, 2005

On the one hand:

My back is a board breaking in two

My ankle tips my foot over

My knee buckles my step

Forgotten appointments pass me by like indifferent strangers

Someone said, "Stiff upper lip"--I heard, "Jack the ripper"

"The" becomes "teh" when I type

I learn how to delete a file on my computer--next time, I learn all over again

On the other hand:

Every day for half an hour I become a vigorous fish

While driving a freeway at night, I see a cat's eyes

When I read, I spot every typo

In native French writing, I catch misspellings

In someone's logic, I find holes 

I conduct a group like an orchestra, with no score

When making love, I am an athlete

LAUGHTER IS LIKE A FEATHER

A tinkle of laughter flits around

upside-down  side-ways

now here  now there

tickling my funny bone

widening my grin