ULYSSES 2

Say you are 70,casting off
possessions while you become slim as a reed
Your life's companions(adventures)
follow in the lees.Memories mutter radio /cassettes
and other defunct formats.You see more behind you than ahead.
The dead are many-they surround you at night(in dreams-
they whisper your name until you are partially released
with only this body ship/its passenger stories
rowing you to new storms or some placid backwater lake.
You take measured footsteps now,and seek
those younger who might burden themselves responsibly
They are rare as gold,precious and few.You wish to divest-
to prepare for death,but the young do not know what to do.
As an elder,you are white haired library(reference book
You carry a certain weight of authority.While young scoff,
they still listen.Reverence for seasons.You wait them out
Yet hear that heart ticking?Pre-digital grandfathering?
That is you on the dock ,watching ships leaving
You at the airport,farewelling.
You know soon it will mean moons above you
earth around and sky within.Slower now,
you count each breath a blessing.It is time to remember
It is a time for forgetting..