As people grow old, their friends and acquaintances begin more and more rapidly disappearing, one by one — leaving this life.
Last night I dreamed I was talking with some elderly ladies in a sort of “do-it-yourself” retirement home. They mentioned someone who was gone, and I said to them,
You go someplace
And you knock on the door,
And the person who was there
Isn’t there anymore.
Just then I began waking up, and realized it rhymed, and formed a kind of simple poem that summarized the common experience of those in their later years.
David
These feelings and thoughts will be experienced by all of us, eventually! In the last 6 years, I have lost 6 relatives and now there is no one else left of that generation. In my late 60’s I’m an orphan!
We always referred fondly to our elders as “old things.”
Now we are the old things.
Thanks for your poem.