I THINK TOO MUCH

When the day is nearly done

I, for one, am often tired –

tired in the way an old man tires

which seems a different kind of weariness

than I had before in my earlier days

when the world had work for me to do

and offered me less time for pondering.

 

Now, when time moves faster than it did

some years ago, or so it seems

I think too much about what’s disappearing

even as engineering seems to work more marvels­

for the world I now inhabit.

 

As I go to bed at night, such matters

hover above the pillow that rests my head

and it’s a wonder I can sleep.

And it’s a wonder that in the midst of this

I feel such a sense of gratitude

for the life I’ve had

and for the life that still claims me

as a rather ancient species of mankind.

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