Getting Old

Late in the evening,
When it is still too early to be called night
Everything has become darker,
Even my thoughts
The world filling in the spaces,
Knowing that any shade will do
The light having found a hiding place
I sit in silence and remember every debt I owe
The sorrow and the pain
The bruises and the scars
My life has no spare parts,
Only damage and debris from wreckage
Bent and broken pieces thrown in the trunk
The patches wouldn't hold
There was never enough
Bondo to fill the depressions
That’s why I let the loose edge drag
And eased on down the road
It would never be new again
Besides, I can’t remember the first scratch
And what does it matter now anyway?
My life, out of tune and out of time
Covered with the dust of this world
I want to sing one last verse
Have everyone join in on the chorus
But I don’t know the words
Though my mind is always searching
Opening the drawer of my brain
Picking a file, selecting the page,
Reading the words, but not finding
I have about reached my limit
Suffering teaches us our limits
Then charity holds our hand
Until we are an urn full of ashes