I am not young anymore, my body tells me so.
As the sun comes up it pinches me in many places.
And at the end of the day, as I wait for sleep,
fingers of the night prod into my brain.
As they come to my mind
I pick them up for inspection
to view them one by one
like coloured chards of glass.
Sleep undisturbed as death at night
Books, not too deep, not too light
My house, not a palace but cozy it be
Nice and comfortable, no luxury