Cranky Old Man

My forgetting is getting better, say with one hundred and forty eight years under my belt or is it just shy of fifty, uhmmm. This afternoon we went up to the Botanical Gardens in Roodepoort to get away from the maddening crowd. I don’t want to be reminded that today is my birthday; I am not getting any younger as my get up and go has already gotten up and went.

To lay on the grass and hear a century old tortoise chomp away at the green grass, to hear the hop hoppity of the Cape Robin, or the babbling of the brook. What will my future hold now that the spark in my eyes starts to fade? Ahh aren’t I the cranky old man.

What do you see in me? What do you see? What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?

Now that I am nearly fifty, Lord God I pray that you grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked, the good fortune to run into the ones I do, and the eyesight to tell them apart.