Nearing Cemetery Gate

My eyes are getting tired
my hair is going gray
my teeth appear much longer
my naps take most the day

I can’t recall last passion’s flare
or when I lost the spark
I only feel the hours tick
and tock my life toward dark

To say I cannot see you
or hear you call my name
brings shivers to my aching bones
and sorrow tinged with shame

For now my sight remains intact
my hearing not yet poor
let’s raise a toast to our best years
but first pick me up off this floor.

— Giselle M. Massi copyright May 28, 2018