67 years old.

67 years old.

A Poem by Coyote Poetry 

67 years old..

I am in the Winter of discontentment, and I am learning.

I am 67 years old, and I won’t see Florence again, 

I won’t drink the September new wine in Germany again and

I won’t be able to read my poetry at Hyde Park in London.

Maybe I decided my final place to rest?

Now I have my Michigan, now I have my great lakes near.

Now I have Port Austin and this is enough for me.

Lake St. Clair is near me and I can sit near the Clinton River everyday.

I can sit with the Lake St. Clair dancing and I can write my poetry and story.

I have my five grandchildren, I love their tomfoolery and laughter,

they can make me smile and laugh too.

Some of my discontentment of my life can make me feel sad.

I wished, I did more.

I have learned in my 67 years of life.

You can’t save a world, that doesn’t want to be saved.

You must create safe place for your family and your friends.

And hope for a good death, you must hope for a good ending.

Dancing Coyote