Too old to do anything but

count rain drops on oak leaves

or play heaven to a flock of pigeons

with thimblefuls of bread from on high.

Too old to do anything but

what no one else is doing

like scratching my leg

or struggling to read a sign

that's some twenty feet distant.

I have carved out a niche for myself

that involves neatly folding my handkerchief

after use and stepping over cracks in the sidewalk.

Go on. Live like that. I dare you.