BIRTHDAY BLUES!

How do you do,.... 72!
We’ve never met before
I’ve only seen you at a distance
Now I’m knocking at your door.

This neighborhood is new to me
I’m not sure just what to do
I don’t feel that I belong
I need a tip or two.

My old address was down the hill
a fair and happy place.
I used to rise each morning
filled with heaven's grace.
But just last week some disturbing news I learned
I would have to leave, because the calendar turned.

When the calendar turns, there is not a doubt
Your time is up, the clock has struck, and you must get out.

People are tired of your ditzy tales,
You're no longer cute or funny,
You may not drool, but you're no longer "cool"
So off you go, unless, of course, you have money.

Since my purse only holds a nickle or two
it was perfectly clear what I must do.
Climb up this hill, get the lay of the land
Try to find some place not built upon sand.

I've seen some pretty gardens, but some deep craters too
I'll have to watch my step, or I might fall right through.

The dress code, however, seems to be quite clear
I believe I'll have no problem fitting in here,
No need to buy anything new
Whatever is in my closet will do.
Long sleeves are in, short skirts are out,
But jackets are great for those who are stout.

Still I’m not sure about accessories
Like that plastic plug to stick in my ear
so when someone speaks I'll be able to hear,
or those socks that come up to my knees,
to keep my blood flowing with just the right squeeze.

Do I need to go out and buy a new cane
Just to be ready when my knee crumples in pain?

Perhaps we can sit down - you and me
Talk things over, maybe sip tea
I don’t suppose you have anything stronger
That would let me hang on a little bit longer
To that sweet vision of the place I once knew
Before I knocked on your door, ...72!