A WET NOODLE

It’s not often that one is called
“A wet noodle”
and I wasn’t called one
until I got to be over ninety.

My Tampa daughter
felt that I looked like one
for days
after I had some surgery
early this year.

I don’t remember much
when I resembled such
but
I am glad that
the metaphor no longer applies’

This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.