On ageing

Slow thoughts,

Repeated,

Stuck in time,

Locked on memories,

Of how it should be done.

We speak twice a week,

Along busy homeward roads,

Just to “check your still alive”,

To hear lengthy tales of medicines

And administration gone bad,

Physio and boredom,

The trouble and the strife,

Punctuated analysis of,

Football, news, and life.

The ticking clock,

Of memory and clarity,

Seems to slow on every strike,

As the shadow of the ultimate,

Cloaks our thoughts,

As the day when this ritual,

Number 3,

Will just ring out.