Froggacuda's Weblog

clutching vainly at
the relentless grains of time;
the youth that still holds to his mother’s skirts
– afraid of the world –
who constantly skins his knees.
old. I’m growing old,
and I’m beginning to like the idea
that I’ve only recently come to accept.
I’m giving up my desperate search
for a way to slow the tramp of the feet
of the incessantly marching days.
now I’m looking for more ways
to enjoy these blessed moments
that I’m alive.
but if I am to grow old, then let me grow
olde with and E,
gracefully
and happily.