years under our belts,
we shrink
in size,
the bones, the flesh,
at last
giving in to gravity.
we downsize
our homes,
scuttle
the clutter,
box and bin all things.
we find
a room somewhere
in a building
were others like us,
are let in.
the days grow shorter,
the Sundays
so far away,
when visitors arrive
with flowers
and smiles,
but everyone is on it,
everyone knows that this
is the end.
not right away,
but in awhile.
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