Conversation With a Geriatric

Our conversation were like children feet Running up the village lane Our friendship kiting our words, no discrete Babble, nothing thought as vain The suddenly our meanings turn this corner A little groan, another complaint The sudden sense the body has gotten older A stiff joint, a discomfort faint Someplace in a leg, stomach or the shoulder The sudden closing of the blinds And a shivering sense the wind is colder Despite the summer of our minds Then the yelling went out from us, the voice Soft, almost regretful, became In memories and wishes our hearts rejoice Our flesh is too old for the game.