Yoda

What Is Old?

White paper bags containing boiled sweets passed over by rheumatoid hands bent grotesquely A smile a million years old seen briefly All sitting comfortably in chairs or for dinner The one day they disappear?

In My Lonely Room

I am dreaming of you I am dreaming of you And the places we shall go And all the time I know I am too old I am too old and too weak read too strong not long for this world addicted to thrills scared of the young scared of my room scared of my