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ON REACHING 88

Letters

Three score years and 10 we’re told 

Is when we really are approaching old 

So let me say at this late date 

That really old is 88. 

My hair is gone, that is the truth 

I’m also getting “long in the tooth.”

The water works are doing fine 

The weight is still in manageable line 

The balance, though, has gone askew 

The eyesight has undergone renew 

The mind is sharp, the wit is too 

The appetite requires a few 

Adjustments here and there 

To help me to regrow my hair. 

The energy that once was good 

Has left my legs, that feel like wood. 

They won’t respond when I need them to 

So a pedalling machine will have to do. 

So when you visit my humble home 

Remember not to bring a comb 

But talk with voice that is slow and clear 

To help me understand and hear 

You clearly as you say 

You’re 88 – 

Hip hip hooray!

Ralph Meyer, Sechelt