Sitting in a windowless room
in the basement
where the smells of death called
entering my thoughts
and core of being
70 may be reached they said,
but that may be as far you go.
Here I am today
a few days past 70
Smiling—feeling well
Yet, ghosts share the room
haunting hidden corners
from years and days along the way.
I hear songs
calling to lift my feet
moving on the Earth
alive and well, smiling,
my mind has a lot to say.
Choosing dance and play,
the ghosts can wait,
the moment will come—
just not yet
as I breathe
My life engaged.
