These Days

my hands once strong and agile
lie quietly in my lap
soft and fragile
where I once had hair
I have now a cap

soon I will be old and quiet
with only distance to share my fire
in this cold old house
none left of me or my desire
memories of you to share my bed

in the corner sits my conscience
dancing with fate
speaking in rhymes
of better times
discussing yesterday
and the day before
knowing it's too late

in front of my fire
I rock and stir my tea
and close my shutters
to the world and time
I'll hear no one's words today
but mine

by Robert Combs

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