To turn back the clock. It marches up inexorably. One second at a time.

And your body gives shape to it. You’re an infant…a púber…an adult…

and a person of age…yes. An old person. And your moves are not as

quick. You hardly get on a chair to get that spider web. Forget the light

on the stove…the fire alarm sounds loud…in the hallway…the pancakes

get cold while trying to fan off the smoke…coffee is still good.

As your old bones and muscles. You keep carrying on. The sun shines

bright. The moon too. It’ll be that way till your final day. Don’t panic.

That’s the way it’s supposed to be. Relax. Have a strong one. Two.

The whole bottle. it’s your life.

EO