The Winter of my Days

Now I am in the winter of my days.
Like frigid water I move slower now;
I've had to change the rhythm of my ways
I cannot do what I once did somehow.

When wintry winds blow up a chilly breeze
I stay indoors. I do not brave the cold.
My achy bones creak like the leafless trees,
alas I fear that I am getting old.

Yet I rejoice in sitting still to see
The little birds that gather at my feet,
The dance of life that brings much joy to me,
The love of those who make my days complete.

Though winter won't be followed by a spring,
I would not change this time for anything.

Tasha Halpert