Old man of mine, we shared a lot I know.
I hear your thoughts before they are well said,
and know your groaning, you don’t mean it bad.
I know you well, you know me much more so.
Recycled wisdom, such we never found
in books, with all we needed in our selves,
those books can stay there on the shelves.
We throw them from us on the ground,
where we made love and we still do, old man,
and so much still is a surprise in life.
I put my arm in yours. I am your wife.
We go together growing old. We can.
Old man of mine, I knew you young and now
I get you all and whole. Once I know how.
Poet's Corner 