Drooling Dreams of a Septuagenarian

Drooling Dreams of a Septuagenarian

The edgy uneasiness of growing old
saps the strength from daily life, which must
ease from habit to routine to a slow trust
in tomorrow and embrace a greater need,
and hold in tender arms a new deed.
Vacating employment a decade ago,
unsure which way the winds would blow,
like a sprig, a newly planted seed-

my path turned thoughtful, meditative.
I thought of careless days gone by,
of nights living a glorious high,
and the carnage strewn everywhere;
then I fell asleep in my old, worn chair,
dreaming of warm milk in my underwear.