A few days ago, my friend Lori sent out the weekly schedule of poems that would be read on Conrad’s Corner. She expressed hope that we were all “safe in our homes, gathering words close for comfort and companionship.” In the middle of the line-up was Robert Frost’s Fire and Ice, a tongue-in-cheek musing on whether fire or ice might more effectively destroy the world. Considering global warming and glacial meltdown, I also “hold with those who favor fire.” His words niggled their way into my brain, supplying Satira (my parody-loving muse) with
a framework to build upon. I allowed her free rein, insisting only that she pick a subject other than COVID-19. We’ve all had enough of that, haven’t we? Here’s what she came up with:
TWENTY-FIVE OR FIFTY?
Some say life starts at twenty-five,
Some say at fifty
I felt more bodily alive
at the lissom age of twenty-five
But wisdom did not come so swiftly,
nor easiness in my own skin
Being a smart and confident fifty
and at peace within
is pretty nifty
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