The frosty air and bone-cold winds
Had kept me indoors
More this time than ever before
My body winding down like the seasons
The chill is so inner now, that it penetrates to the core
And begs for "no more"
So that I opt for the warm couch
And balls of wool
That work so easily into cozy afghans.
The TV keeps me company
When my man is not here with me.
The wool is soft and comforting
And I have come to a place where finally
I feel a "rightness" about staying home
If someone wants to see me they know
Where to find me; I am here
I made the effort for so long
Past driving and roads, and pain and ache
That no one wants to see.
I don't want it either, but it cannot be turned off
Oh how we despise the old and worn out
Our culture is cruel; we say we do not
But it is a lying field, we pretend to be kind.
My bones ache less if I stay in and move slower
My back does not bend without real effort
I no longer have the will to hide it all and smile
Come to me if you really care, if you can spare
Some time to show that something I did sometime
Meant something to you after all.
The pot bubbles on the stove with carrots and meat
Potatoes and herbs drift their scent into warmed air
Moist in the kitchen, but quickly dried by furnace heat
I am comfortable in big, thick, pink-striped socks
On sale at Mark's that day that I did venture out
What a deal, made me smile, made me so glad to get home
And adorn my cold feet in the easy warmth of their softness
We all make our choices; we all have to face ourselves in the end
My girlfriend could not wait to welcome me to the "Over 60 Club"
She could have been a little more kind, but she does not have a man.
I wonder how many more winters I will compare the weather
To before, to an earlier time when I was still young
Rushing to and fro, and trying to make something count
Somewhere, sometime, for someone.
