Always More To Come
Eighty-one years in
the twentieth century
and accumulating more
in the one on-going.
A speck or illusion of time
in the eternal life i have;
for the best of me is not
the physical body i’ve got.
I think i’m accountable for
the endlessness of time–or more.
This immensity i may use
is the unending which i choose.
For who wants to measure this life
counting years of physical strife?
I live alone and independently
in a retirement complex
with thee hundred people.
Therefore i am immersed in
camaraderie while independent.
I distribute a poem a day
to ten percent of the residents.
To my other friends and fellow poets
i send several poems a day by e-mail.
I have a blog on the internet
where i place most of my writings
which can be googled at
“Walt Abbott Poems.”

Walt Abbott–9-5-08