I met an elder man
who leaned against a wooden cane
and as he eyed my youthful age
he said he’d been awake since the dawn of that day
“child don’t you fret,” he said
“you’re only as old as you want to claim
look at me, my years are ninety-three;
be happy for today is just another day!”
“but what is worth living for?” I asked instead
the elder man laughed and simply said:
“the birds in the trees are singing for me
and the flowers are blossoming for spring,”
I snatched up my frown and buried it down
and smiled at the old man’s ways
life is what you make of it
and there’s no one else to blame