On the Go

A short poem about growing older and the wisdom gained through the years

You can’t bury him yet

The wise old owl well fed

Eyes keen, a healthy spleen

A wrinkled face shows a has-been

 

But not so fast

Old hickory not passed

But vigilant and wise

Wisdom his greatest prize

 

He saunters slowly like a snail

His stories, jokes are all old mail

His humor, full of jest

Tall tales believed are just the best

 

He loves his kids

And grandkids in the midst

Penuriously slaved

Years of elements braved

 

He’s yearned it, earned it

While life has taught him quite a bit

So when you pass him say “hello”

Not finished yet, his life is on the go