I am glad to ignore the evening news.
What is the precise point that signifies
whether awake or asleep?
How can you sleep in front of the evening news?
It seems tenuous as a fiction,
signifying indifference between the nightmare
awake and the nightmare asleep.
I nod off. The world will go its way
without my opinions. After the sleep
the garden I tend needs my help.
But hard to get up.
My rocking chair is now my chief influence.
But I launch myself, stagger the first few steps.
The atmosphere shifts about my sloping forearms.
It is a bent over shuffle.
Careful not to break anything,
I walk, as if on glass,
the bent shouldered caution of age,
for the glass may crack.
And when it busts you tumbledown,
tumbledown the vast underground,
a grim and grimy game. Or is it a dream?
Wake up! The legs strengthen as they go.