Old Age. Poem by Lazarus Knix

My shadow leaps across the street,
And rests upon a slender tree.
It’s limbs are bent down in an ark,
By some wind song after dark.

His arms can't grasp the moon drenched sky,
Yet I guess him twice the age as I.
Beneath this sweet metallic light,
I count each moment of the night.

And so does he- but without haste,
As I romp and bark, then dissipate.
For my days are short, full and free,
While time- his chains, hang heavily.

I have pondered the tree’s philosophy
“Longevity within standing still! ”
Yet an anchored life is agony
‘Least wisdom be one’s only will.

I’ll take his nature up one day-
For now I jump, bleed and play.