[Gravdigr]

Originally Posted by orthodoc

I shall wear jeans
With the sweatshirt I wore to every exam
From the year I turned seventeen

I shall stay up late with the cats
That I bred, fed, delivered
And made citizens of this small world

I shall get up early to feed
The chicks and chickens I have kept
In defiance of the past

And I shall rub the neck of the old male donkey
Who guards the turkeys and the guinea fowl

I shall make my way, as always, to the place
I love most
To that warm heavy hay-scented barn,
To the leather-smelling tack room where the feral queen
Jealously guards her kittens

I shall gather a bridle from the wall
Rendezvous with my darling
Who doesn’t mind
We dance through the door, kiss the wind
And depart on a breath before sundown

Through the trees we glide like the ghosts we are
Crest the rise, watch the sun die
And slowly return
Like the ghosts we are

When I am an old woman
I shall wear jeans

And my darling won’t mind

That is going to get me laid tonight. Guaranteed. Baby turned fifty last month, and I've been giving her a hard time (heh, hard time ) about being old.

That poem is gonna git me some.