Buck Codgers and the Carpet Slippers of Time

Who stares from the mirror?
That usurper
That body snatcher
Who stole the mind
Of a twenty year old.

What of his body?
That lazed away the mornings in bed
That walked at a trot
That chased?
Where has that gone?

And the mind of the codger?
Where did they beam that one?
It lingers at the edges
Demands the morning paper
And a hot cup of horlicks
Warm feet
and cold turkey dinners.

then the young man concedes
and lets the host dictate the day
the walks in the park
the early nights and early mornings
the teeth in the mug

when the final frontier will come for you
and take you where all men before have gone

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