Waking in the dark, hearing
rain playing on the roof
hours before dawn.
hours before dawn.
Luxury.
Old age is/a flight of small birds/skimming bare trees/above a snow glaze./Gaining and failing/they are buffeted/by a dark wind –/But what?/On harsh weedstalks/the flock has rested,/ the snow is covered with broken seedhusks/ and the wind tempered/ by a shrill/ piping of plenty./ "To Awaken an Old Lady" by William Carlos Williams