Me at Almost 68

(I wrote this a while ago. I’m 68 and three months now and they took my blood the last two times I offered it.)

 

My knees may hurt
but they don’t grumble much
with a mile and a half
at the gym.
My hand tingles, types semi-colon
for asterisk but still can type.
I’d like to have a body forty pounds lighter
but once had a hundred more than this.
They flunked me from donating blood
the last two times, said I’m anemic,
made me realize I have no energy
but had enough to try to give blood.
Tons of things to do are lined up,
listed, waiting for me but some of them
are getting done.
I have minuscule understanding of who I am
but I’m learning.
Ten years ago I was offended
when a youngster gave a senior discount
without asking, but I’m a senior, oldest
in my family but for two, and healthy.
I could find things to complain about
but I’d rather not.
I’d rather bask in the light of what I have
and what it means to me.
MeAt68