In this winter of my life
I have no need to seek
relief in tropic climes.
RVing to Arizona
is not where I would be,
for canopied visits with my peers,
none of whom think like me.
Neither a golfing trip
to Florida with fellow codgers
driving bellies round groomed tees,
nor a visit to the Legion
to relive foreign wars,
reviving ancient wounds.
Tearing through pristine wood
on an ATV, whose energy output
would power a third world village...
not the life for me.
Instead, the introspective way,
reflection, thought, and peace,
where seasonal winds speak
in my pines,
and sunsets break my heart.
Exploring walks with my dog,
through alternate realities,
and reflecting on where we are,
compared to where we could be.
Family and friends visit here,
and leave as much as they take away:
warm memories, and a sense of “us”,
sustaining through our days.
I stand here, in a cosmic Now,
with illusions as my friends,
contemplating the possibility
that Reality never ends.
