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