soft grumbles

Ending the Beginning

This is no place for an old man.
The steps on its stairs are too high
for knees weakened by weekend walks
with friends in the park.

Raucous laughter once shared here
with former allies,
was a harmony to his once sharp ears.
But friends have gone away
and everybody sees him
as just a decrepit man.

Nobody knew the songs he sang.
Who from among these kids
would have heard of Carly Simon,
Or Paul, much more, Garfunkel?
"Guys, do you know "The Who?"
To this they'd ask "Who?,"
Of course they know the Stones,
But to them, they're dinosaurs!
Or even Ozzy. But he's more
of a freak show now
"What about CSNY and their
Suite Judy Blue Eyes?"

He is the odd man out
and they talk behind his back.
He couldn't help it.
The wall is not a sieve
to strain what it hears.
His almost deafened ears hear
the murmur of the wind.

Yes, this is no place for an old man.
This is where one learns.
This is where he tested his skills
causing guffaws when he erred,
earning him praises during triumphant times.

It's all over now.
All that is left for him is to retire.

Now, the real work begins