Writer's Pantry # 93 and I indulge in a small pity party, most likely the result of a series of four gloomy, chilly, rainy days. I'm ordinarily not one for pity parties, but one seemed to present itself this morning. Submitted to Poets and Storytellers United, October 28, 2021
"The moving finger writes, and having writ moves on, nor all thy piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all they tears wash out a word of it", ~Omar Khayyam
Time teaches humility … and reality
in gradually insidious painful lessons
So much to be learned as we progress through life
I thought I’d always be a capable multitasker.
Though I can still drive .. I cannot lift my walker
into the car, so where will I go? and what will I do
after I get there?
I loved grocery shopping, and reading the
gossip sheets while I stood in line
Now I order my groceries on line,,,
and have them delivered.
We used to be a monthly eight for lunch,
dear friends and I. Now we are two,
...and can’t get there.without help.
Monthly art meetings were a source of inspiration.
No meetings now, and art projects grow fewer and fewer.
I always prided myself on being positive
Now positivity is a chore... and frequent façade
Criteria for planning outings: Are there stairs?
Is parking close? Is seating immediate? Is the
restroom easily available!
Adjustments to be made, and blessings to
be counted…and I find there are still plenty
Time to enjoy the beauty around me. Time
to observe lives of those I hold dear, and
let them know they are loved.
Time to be revered.