Bio Note: A manuscript of my poems crashed on the lunar surface in 2019 carried by Israel’s Bersheet Lander. For several decades, I’ve been involved with free and open source software and free culture projects. For drinking, I prefer Cheerwine and rye. For BBQ, smoked pork butt over hickory with vinegar sauce.
The old men told me age is like wine; it makes you jolly, makes you forget. Now old, I'm up early to fill my cup. For a while everything seems fine. Finches fight for a bit of suet. The air is cool and the sun's just up. But I fall asleep before lunch time. Vampire visions, demon dreams, brown bats, faces of the future seen close-up! Or do I visit some past in my mind? All the unopened doors I regret having left untested, left shut up. Not even a knock to ask. Then thunder. The roar that shakes me as if to answer.
©2021 Paul Jones
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