Here is the first poem from this amazing book:
Because I am old
don’t think my days are non-events
spent fretting and forgetting and, like
a startled deer, don’t leap away in fear
of a soliloquy about the good old days.
These are my days, each a gift new-minted,
mine to spend and they are good.
How quaint you say that I believed
marriage came first, then we lived
together ever after, a joint was Sunday roast,
hardware nuts and bolts, software not a word.
Today where would I be without the Dart
my free travel pass, two replacement hips,
my duck-down duvet, cappuccino, my Ipad
and my mobile phone where alphabetic
brevity keeps loved ones close. R U OK
and a smiley face instantly replace
My dearest daughter, I hope this letter
finds you well and happy, in postal
transit for a week or more.
As for regrets, I have one.
Like
Nadine Stair at eighty-five
were
I to live my life again
I
would pick more daisies.
Bernie Kenny