|A SONNET TO THE YEARS|
There was no certain cake where candles flocked,
That bid good-bye from middle-aged to "eld".
There was no all-at-once where mirrors shocked --
Just slow surrender to each curfew belled;
The shock was when I first heard, "elderly",
Outrageously directed at myself.
Denial, with an instant, "What, who me" --
So doomed for life upon a dusty shelf?
But joy still flows, and "elderly"'s my group --
Accepted now, the help of steady hands,
Adopted, is the cane that aids my stoop --
Endorsed, the plodders' shift with less demands.
But, once again, a brute remark has tolled --
Today I went from "elderly" to "old".
Edwin S. Rice
Kansas City, Missouri
|EDWIN S. RICE, 87, Kansas City, Missouri, a talespinner and occasional serious sonneteer who uses rhyme and meter to entertain readers with witty, warm and masterfully crafted depth is a retired stone mason. He is a member of Missouri State Poetry Society and return SPL winner. His sign is Gemini.