From An Old Poop

Dear Friend:

Just a line to say I'm living ...
That I'm not among the dead,

Though I'm getting more forgetful
And mixed up in the head.

I got used to my arthritis,
To my dentures I'm resigned,

I can manage my bifocals,
But Lord ... how I miss my mind!!!

Sometimes I can't remember
When I stand at the foot of the stairs,

If I must go up for something ...
Or if I've just come down from there.

I stand before the fridge at times,
My poor mind filled with doubt,

Have I come to put food away,
Or come to take some out?

There are times when it is dark out,
And with my nightcap on my head,

I don't know if I'm retiring ...
Or just getting out of bed.

So if it's my turn to write you,
There's no need for getting sore,

I may think that I have written
And don't want to be a bore.

I do know that I miss you
And wish that you were near.

And now it's nearly mail time
So I must say good bye, my dear.

Now I'm standing beside the mail box
With a face so very red,

Instead of mailing you my letter ...

I have opened it instead!!!

Author Unknown

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Original art by Mike Scovel, used with permission
www.mikescovel.com