We have met old men on the sidewalks.
One lay prone, half on the grass, and, reaching up, said “Thank you for my coat. Thank you for my shoes, and for the air- my food.”
Behind us, one day, we heard a scraping and a shuffling, and we turned to see this one man who was dragging a sizeable branch. We, perplexed, said a pleasantry, but he said only “I am going home.”
A third sat propped against a young oak and smoked something that was flaming. Its fume was fragrant, and he smiled and wrinkled his nose.
And this old man feels a dwindling in his heart, a barrel in his chest, and walks on tin man joints. The brain and courage dwindle too, but the smile is knowing.
Aremyfeetofftheground 
Lee,
May I quote from this poem in the piece I’m writing, if I give you credit and link it? No worries if not; it just has a similar feel to this end-of-year time for me. Hope you’re doing all right.
Jessica Superball
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Sure you can, Jessica! All is okay here, and I hope you’re doing well too!
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Wonderful, thank you. ❤ It’s a strange solstice season for me so far, but I’m appreciating the weird waves and glad to have inspiration today.
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So good.
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Thanks, Jessica…hope you’re doing okay!
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I’m good, if a bit worn out. Parents are visiting. Good to see them, though. Hope you’re doing okay, too, all things considered.
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Yep, good here thanks. I haven’t done anything on Mastodon, but I looked for you there. Didn’t see any recent posts.
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Weird! I’m on there a lot. It’s basically my only social media at this point (unless you count things like Patreon and Substack).
Oh wait—I did migrate to a new instance a little while back; did I lose you in the process? I’m @superball@NorCal.social.
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I’ll look you up.
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Yay!
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