Leaves In The Wind
I'm no longer at the top of my mind.
'…only the best that he can be.'
I bumped my head. I'm getting old.
No longer sharp. My humor's flat.
But that's ok. I'll play my hand.
I'll win this game;
that's even if the game and score
are merely settings in my mind.
poem by Rick Stokes
Added by Poetry Lover
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