Nevermore

A few weeks ago I faced a harsh truth,

River-rides on the tube must be left to the youth.

Lest I suffer a wrenched neck or a displaced shoulder,

Or incur a case of vertigo now that I’m older.

Another nevermore activity of the prohibited kind,

Like cartwheels and somersaults, long left behind.

Not a knee or a hip have I yet to surrender,

But a crash on a skateboard could render a member.

Wheels with ball-bearings entail balance and stability,

So I abandon blades and scooters with grace and humility.

Do I dare try to snow-shoe or ski the local trail,

Pull on spiked boots and poles to hike down for the mail?

I’m satisfied never having climbed the face of a wall,

No regrets I never mastered gymnastics or sports with a ball.

Now a senior, must I stroll, meander, nothing faster than a lope?

One last thing, a 5K marathon, I won’t resign hope.

Before 70 I’m determined to boast, “Yes, I ran.”

Perhaps I should wait for next week’s bone scan.

All in all I’m grateful to be an ager who functions,

Nevermore to bemoan the limits of this life-junction.