An Old Man

I look out my windows at trees turning green to rust…yellows…gold…another year over…soon the calender will change…as have I…

A tooth pulled…body aches…gray streaks in black hair…colds are caught easily…pissing my life away…the beginning of the end…the final stretch…

And winter will come…none of us can avoid it’s grip…blackened skies…overcast days…the mystery that it is…mystery…

Hope I see spring…

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