The clown is quieter now,
but somewhere in the back of my closet
is a large red nose.
I try to keep on the move,
but at times I find my feet
on separate paths.
I like to think that my heart
is as big as ever–
even when it doesn’t keep time.
If I had a chance to do all of it
over again,
who would I be?
So what if I’m not quite ninety.
Don’t they say it’s a virtue
to look to the future?
Perhaps the first ninety years
will turn out to be
only a good beginning.
– –
“On Being Ninety” is from The Life That I Have, which appeared last year.
