Pale skin like tissue paper

A body so thin

An onlooker would wonder if there is a later

Sun spots among wrinkles

Eyes that are hazy

Legs lifeless like cinderblocks

But at certain things there is a twinkle

The man was never lazy

I wonder if he spent the final months looking at clocks

What did he make of the world unfolding

A sliver of hope for a female president kept him holding

Final public appearances in a black wheelchair

The final home was a place in Georgia somewhere

Hospice is a term that we’ll all meet

Despite building homes, sinking ships, lifelong marriages and strong kids

Plus serving as president

In 100 years of purpose there’s still a sense of defeat

A flowered casket surrounded by a crowd dressed in black

Honored by the most prestigious

An old man died

Where does this leave us

There is sadness

As I picture my own father

Strength and vigor are fleeting

Like breath

What will I, you, do today?

What in this life is worth the bother?

Old pictures make a timeline

Isn’t there something invaluable in laugh lines

Legs that have worn out completely

Eyes that have seen everything

Will you still be believing?

As the black wheelchair inches closer

As we all get older

Is that casket cozy?

Who at the funeral really knows me?

Life is a sunset

But there’s flowers at death

What does a body do once in the soil

I like to think those big boxes house the royal

That this side is just a practice run

So I go about the day, waiting for the sun