The most I can do
Is sit here on this bench
I’ve done the laundry dishes
Taken the old lady for a walk
Towards the park
Raised and lowered the blinds
The least I can do I think
It’s summer
And who after another wants
Another having the last thirty forty years
On their hands

every morning
I wonder why
I'm not prepared
for myself

Another Letter To A Friend--reVision

I'm not living too much

anymore, concentrating

on the many years now.

It

is raining

Silence

is better than you think