I’m over the hill, so they say,
Not really in the stream of life,
Just sitting, watching beside it,
wondering more with each birthday
if, some day there’ll be no housewife
because of that equal rights bit
and when women make their own bed
will they then like lying in it;
I hope, if wrong, they can unthread
the pattern, and to man commit.
Things that folks throw out yesterday,
they’re wishing they had kept today –
they’re acquiring money value;
and drugs that some folks take today,
they wish they hadn’t yesterday –
it’s something that is hard to undo.
Babies aren’t blessed events now,
they pollute and they overcrowd,
say ecologists; should ration,
they say, just one or two allow;
wonder if mom woud be more proud
if she disposed of all but one
and still could history repeat
with hidden bulrush baby ark?
I think God’s wisdom is complete,
His ecology the flood-mark.
Children learn sex with A.B.C’s
and can discuss it with such ease,
parents take another fade-out.
Youth is highly educated
and well equipped to get ahead,
even to the planets, no doubt.
Oh, one may be over the hill,
but find life today exciting,
trying to weigh the pros and cons
of the stream, downhill or uphill;
but it’s the little things I’m righting
that makes me ask, “What paragons”
with beans in the pressure cooker
and the lid simply won’t come off;
electricity does concur
with clock and backwards it takes off.