I am old and no longer care
To be overly circumspect.
I am old and I dance to music
Heard as I walk along the street.
I dance to Muzak in the stores.
Waiting in line at the pharmacy,
I mini-step my special dance
And sashay out the door as I leave.
Down the grocery aisle
I keep the beat, beat, beat
As I select a can, a bag or box.
I am old,
If you frown, I do not care
For I know happiness
Is how and when you make it.
If you laugh,
I will laugh along with you.
If someday I cannot walk or stand,
I will sway whatever will move—
Keeping the beat, beat, beat.
You will see the joy in my eyes.
You need not ask, just know
I am dancing in my soul.
Leave a Reply
Want to join the discussion?Feel free to contribute!