I should be headed to bed

To sleep

To rest

To dream

But the stress

The worries

The pain of the day

Even the joy of the day

Prevent…

It’s late

A little Tchaik 5

On the CD player

I’m tired

Or am I

The body

Is ready for

Sleep

For repose

For the unconscious

Rest

Which we

Call

Sleep

But is the rest of me

Ready for

The weird dreams

For the stiffness

That the

Sleep of

An old man

Brings

I think not

But I must

As the body demands

Condemns

And I do mean condemns

Myself to sleep

As much as I

Regret the side

Effects

I must sleep

Dang

It seems that the order of life

Those things that can be counted on

Are somewhat askew

Winter here is by rote

Cold…very cold

With snow plied as high as the eye can see

But this winter…

Not a winter but an

Extended fall

And my life…

Such as it is…

As askewed as the weather

‘Twas the night before

The night before

Christmas

And all through the house

Several creatures were stirring

And all of them cats

I had wished that the stirring

Was a well-shaped blond

But then again

At my age

I couldn’t respond

It is insane

Crazy

Down right stupid

And dumb

Despite all my problems

Despite the fact

That

Physically

I feel

Like

I’ve been drug through a knothole

Backwards

I feel

Fine

Better than fine

I feel

Normal

Of course

Normal

For

Me

Is weird

It’s late

It’s way past the time for repose

But my mind whirls

As my body decays

You’d think

That

Body, mind

And spirit

Would act as

One

But the truth is

And always will be

That one

Fights

Incessantly

Against

The

Other

Two

Life is a maelstrom of

Doubt

Stress

Disbelief

And sheer boredom

Only a fool believes

That he

Is

In control of his fate

And

I

Am such

A

fool

The mind restlessly searches

The body fears the search

As it has grow far

Too old to

Follow the minds desires

And yet while it acknowledges

The body’s limitations

The mind

Continues it's

relentless pursuit

I am as it were

Two people who inhabit the same body

The physical, which admits my inabilities

And the mental, emotional, spiritual

Which ignores them

I am a private man

A solitary man

By choice

As well as by fate

I both

Chose

And not chose

To live alone

A paradox probably

But

None the less

True

But everyone

Seems

To assume that I’m fine with that

When I'm not

Well not always

True

Most of the time

I am

But not today