On the way out
sometimes her shadow outstretches mine
across the playing fields, sun at our backs
and I wonder who will go first?
For we're both getting to that age
when such matters count-
my threescore years and ten
and her seventy dog years,
peers at last.
And on the way back
following her lead or she following mine
I wonder how I've got to this age
without knowing the difference
between ground elder and hog weed
along with a lot of other herbaceous trivia?
Perhaps it's only the old and the very young
who have the time to wonder and ponder or both
and I'm not three score years and ten just yet...
Copyright 2022 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved
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