Caught in the blaze of light reigning down at speed
Frozen in terror, every sinew, every muscle, every fibre exposed
In slow motion, awaiting the impact of that fast approaching moment
That zero non-negotiable shock of annihilation
Old age is not sold to us like this, but neatly packaged
and tied with pink ribbons and neat glittering paper
Wrapped and folded with love, wisdom and contentment
Not with bulging eyes and fear wracked countenance and a life unfulfilled
with a complete lack of understanding as to why this must be
‘What have I done to deserve this,’ my Grandfather wailed in extreme old age
and the answer, unacceptable but true, ‘you have lived, and have not died’
Like those on the Somme or the children mashed in a crash on holiday
from Lanfranc school. For this is a privilege for the lucky few
to grow old and infirm and not to die young in the throws of a life unused.
Perhaps after all it is natures way to help us loosen our hold on life
so that when the time comes
we don’t mind at all
Or so we like to think, yet I rather suspect,
that when the time comes
such thoughts are no use at all
