Late September In The Park, Feeling Old
Five times I run around the lake -
once I ran without fear more than ten.
Breathless I stop for pills and cake.
My feet are blistered. Will I ever run ten again ?
The squirrels turn leaves dry as bramble
lonely pensioners walk their hounds.
Kids ride trikes while their parents amble
regard me with pity - I feel old and out of bounds.
O savour these days, the bright autumn sky
the fat nervous crows who follow my every move.
Winter sounds though the sun is high
each second a gift - I've got nothing to prove.
This world doesn't listen, it closes all its doors
frowns on old blokes who run an extra mile.
Just leave the world to it - the injustices and wars
bow out with two fingers raised and an uncertain
But see here - a handsome couple run nearby
young and ripe like acorns on a firm oak tree.
They disappear behind hedge rose and I know why:
a little death to compound my late September