Last Grain

The older I get
 the less people to call
 is it by choice
 my spirit’s downfall?

The older I get
 the less then to care
 a life once so pointed
 now little to share

The older I get
 to never defend
 the ones that stood by me
 the ones I called friends

The older I get
 meat gone from the stew
 the faces just names
 of those I once knew

The older I get
 doors lock from within
 a constant reminder
 that blaming can sting

The older I get
 the less people to call
 no sand in the hourglass
   —last grain set to fall

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2014)