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The First Hundred Years

(Reynold D. Philipsek)
I have been writing a “poem” a day lately for a small private collection I am calling, “Verse in the Time of Covid.” Here’s one of the latest.

I’m not as smart as I used to think
But greying hair did not dim the light
I no longer feel I’m on the brink
of genius when merely bright

I now blush with mighty shame
when I look back on brazen days
Thank God I have now lived long enough
to amend those sophomoric ways

The folly of youth can be forgiven
if followed by mature repose
But woe to those who blindly persist
because then true foolishness grows

“There is no fool like an old fool”
I never want to hear that said
behind my back or when I depart
That thought fills me with dread

I now fondly remember my Uncle Dave 
His words now ring wise and clear
“The first hundred years are the roughest,” he said
Those words seem wiser every year

Reynold
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