Night Watch
Alone at eighty
I don’t know
Who I am
Or where I
Want to be
Wisdom is said
To come with age
But this change
Does not illuminate
I dread three a.m.
The night’s darkness
Verbal Injection
From now on I’m
keeping my poems
short and sweet
To the point
As innocuous as
a flu shot
Late in Life
Practice makes
Perfect
So they say
But I’m running
Into the now
Or never
Current Affairs
Getting my affairs in order
In old age
Has nothing to do
With love
Or anything sexy
Instead it is a matter
Of wills
Heath care proxies
Penultimate life and death
Decisions
To resuscitate
Or not
Who gets great gramma’s
Rocking chair
Dilemma
My life’s been put on hold
And my personal service rep
Just quit her job
Either I’ll wait on line until
Someone finds me
Or else I’ll hang up

Photo: Margot Boyd
Recent Poems
Soloing
Sometimes I want
To go where no one
Knows me
Live like a recluse
In an unwelcoming
House
Gnaw on old bones
The bare remnants
Of memory
Sleep all day
In forbidden corners
Prowl at night
Over shadowy walls
Wail at the moon
Sing the blues
Into oblivion
The Difference Between
Words and Actions
I love the word
stymied
How it sits on,
the page
Sounds to
the ear
But I prefer
to be
that not
Timed Out
The night watch
woman
Keeps track of
the clock
While others are
sleeping
In the digital
age
She counts each
tick
Every tock