Pages

Getting Older

I'm sixty-five
And I walk with a cane.
My bones are good
So the doctors say.

I can do the steps,
I can do the ramp,
I'm doing okay.

I'm seventy
And my hair is gray.
My heart is good
So the doctors say.

I can do the steps,
I can do the ramp,
I'm doing okay.

I'm eighty now
And slower down the lane.
My spirit is fine
So the rectors say.

I can do the steps,
I can do the ramp,
Until my dying day.
--Marjean E., Adult