When I Grow Old

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When I grow old

Whenever that I may be

For the numbers keep increasing

Yet perception keeps amending

But when I grow old

I want to be

 

Like the man I saw on my morning walk

Leaning on his cane as he trimmed the hedge

 

Like the couple I passed on the beach

Holding hands, walking gingerly along

 

Like the woman waiting in the check-out line

Wrinkles deep from her winsome smile

 

Like the grandpa laying on the grass at the park

Laughing as grandkids romped and squealed

 

Like the grandma I joined on her porch

Rocking as her grandbaby slept in her lap

 

Like the retired professor I once knew

Hunched over, reading with his magnifying glass

 

Like the writer I read yesterday morn

Still creating books as her body fades

 

Like my mother inviting me to join her on a hike

Appreciating always the outdoors and seasons

 

So when I grow old

But why wait until then?

I can do it now

Be it now

Before

Fleeting time has flown