“seniors have a back alleyway”,
is an ode
for the blue-collar mind
over time,
the overwork
of the reptilian brain logic,
the impedance
of the morality card in play.
Friendships formed
out of waiting in lines.
Stories shared
for the condiments tasted.
I got your back
because I live back there.
Nuisance and triviality
do spark campfires.
The checklist for survival
is in longhand.
People gather
garnered by common excuses.
There is dance
made of staring into space.
New topics come from errors
gone viral inside.
Illness and sickness
are frame breaks from age.
Nostalgia’s jukebox,
memories played for free.
A personal letter gotten,
is a fireplace installed.
Most everything valued
is a give-away thought.
Have excesses,
things rarely used,
don’t need.
Keep car keys occasionally
in intended location.
Never have the right batteries
in backup stock.
Abhor leftovers
but heartily survive on them.
Hard to decide,
this is a mess or just clutter.
Could ponder a different life
but not see it clearly.
Cherish helping others
as if warming the fire.
A hospital stay
is the start of a new chapter.
Old friends making contact
bookmarks the now.
Profiles of others
are compliments expressed.
Bonding features
the shared wealth of loss.
Food is a cathartic enterprise
as contribution.
Night is solace
and confessional self-intimacy.
The use of cross walk
is a common sense act.
Everyone is fascinating
in a eavesdrop way.
Daily repeated behaviors
is a form of vitality.
Something to fix
is a needed reminder style.
The unspoken is
we live outside of the norm.
Consternation is a topic
now addressed warmly.
All the back-stories
are incomplete sentences.
Having personal intentions
is like a pot of gold.
There’s a bright side
to everything experienced.
Life with animals
is a true test of honesty.
We all are working
at discretionary trust.
We are a model citizenry
living out of sight.
But seniors have a back alleyway,
of coping within the now . . .
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