Monday, March 7, 2011

Poetry Reading: "76" by Philip Schultz


by Philip Schultz

My bones aren't what they used to be; my eyes ache,
as if I've been reading an ancient text by candlelight.
My back and knees creak. I'm happy if the car starts
and I can walk the dogs along the ocean which looks
a little less robust. It replenishes itself with stretching
and long cleansing breaths. The sun is another story.
It's beginning to show its age. Perhaps we've enjoyed 
enough springs and everything is getting a little redundant.

"76" by Philip Schultz, from Living in the Past. © Harcourt, Inc., 2004.

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