70

 Seventy - the eighth decade

I’ve reached the decade in between

The sturdy sixties and the feeble eighties

The final decade before the lights grow dim

Before the engine stutters and the gears sound grim. 

Ten more years of reaping harvests 

Before the autumn stunts all growth

Ten more years swimming with the currents 

In the sea of life that keeps us afloat. 

Grandchildren come with baby cries

Before advancing into teenage years

Pushing buggies then reading stories

Grandma’s cooking while grandad’s snoring. 

Different values, different paces

One last decade to make a difference

For bad or good no one is sure

What awaits from Providence. 

We’ve reached the age our fathers never reached 

Their widows soldiered on for decades more to keep

Their memories fresh with grandchildren a joy

That nearly filled the space and nearly filled  the void. 

We’ve fought some battles 

But we skipped the war

Kept the head down from the bullets

Ducked and dived, lived on, survived. 

They say the good die young

So I’m not a special man

Neither saint nor sinner

Perhaps a timely winner. 

Covid has closed a circle 

That started in a Mexican seminary

Now ending in silence and simplicity 

Where Atlantic waters meet the Irish Sea.