Not Much Going on in Reality Today

Without the spouse,

Or the children

Or the siblings

Or the parents

It gets quiet

When the world’s

At work.

And you realize that

Fantasizing

Is killing you

And it must stop.

One wants to be

Anchored in reality

Even though

My illness

Makes reality

Move like tar.

The game is over.

Turn in your

Pads and gloves

Leave it to younger

People who

Do not know

The future

Whose careers

Have not

Yet ended

In disability.

Or poverty.

I must embrace

My age.

Your white hair

Is beautiful.

Your face

Is beautiful.

Adjust to

The rhythms

Of the new

Reality.

Because, Sugar

You can’t go back.

No matter how

Hard you dream.