I remember as a child people would talk <br />about getting old and they would say their bones rattled <br />I don't know if I just get different types of aches than them <br />but my bones never rattle <br />so much as they just carry the dull ache of age <br />wherever I go <br />I don't go too many places these days <br />they deliver enough to my house <br />and I spend a good amount of time by myself <br />Occasionally I do think <br />it would be nice to have some company <br />especially when it snows and I don't even <br />have the option of leaving <br />Honestly though, I think I resigned myself <br />to being alone a long time ago <br />Somehow I knew that the things I did <br />and the life I led would catch up with me <br />I knew I would find myself alone <br />the people who cared about me long gone <br />either because I outlived them <br />or they were too hurt to stay <br />I had this image of myself at a very old age <br />sitting on a porch, my tired, weathered eyes <br /> taking in sunsets with a tired, bittersweet smile <br />Each sunset is it's own insular miracle <br />and each time I see one it reminds me <br />of how little we understand <br />how much of this cosmic mystery <br /> will never be accounted for <br />I was always better at appreciating that <br />than I was at understanding people <br />especially those close to me <br /> and for that I am sorry<br /><br />Charles Darkly<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/insular-when-i-am-old/
