no who's your daddy tonight

as she puts on a smear

of green face

cream, then

climbs into her thick

cotton

pajamas

with a Peter Pan collar

and two pockets,

pulls up her thick socks,

embroidered

with cats and dogs,

you know

that you are both

going to sleep soon,

and that there

will be no

fooling around tonight.

no hanky panky,

no who's your daddy.

it's a kiss on the cheek,

and nighty night,

see you when

the sun comes up.

can you get the light?

a small fish bone stuck

as we

age, we worry more about things

we rarely

worried about

before,

those carefree days

when we were young.

stray bones

in a fish, for instance,

tiny translucent

pieces

that might get stuck

in our throats,

we worry about

falling down a flight of stairs,

or when

stepping off a curb,

getting

laces caught

in the steps

of an escalator, we worry

about fiber

and 

cotton clothing, is it a blend,

or one hundred per cent

combed cotton.

i don't want to itch.

will this noon cup of coffee

keep me

up all night,

are we too far

from an entrance with this

parking spot?

we ponder,

before going anywhere,

is there a bathroom

nearby?

how's my

blood pressure,

my blood

sugar,

should i get the shingles

shot too

when i go in

for the pneumonia shot

and flu?

her new hair doo

i fell in love

with her when she was a red head,

then

accepted the new

brunette

locks, and eventually

came to terms

with

blondie, then silver,

but this new phase

of zero

hair to comb,

she may have gone

too far.

we can't walk down a street

looking

so much alike.

that slow sack of mail

nearly

everything has speeded up.

the cars,

the lines,

the online offerings

and buys,

rockets to the moon

and back,

the world is spinning

faster,

the ice is melting quicker.

only the US

mail seems

to be moving a slower

than usual

pace.

another late fee

attests to that.

hold on, there's more

suddenly

what was a headline

yesterday, is on

the back page.

the important news

of twenty-four hours ago

is now

of no, or little 

interest. how quickly

the world

moves,

these days.

a roller coaster

of highs

and lows.

we're dizzy, holding

onto each

other, wondering

what lies

around the next hill,

the next

impossible dip.

head on a swivel

there are no

aliens

from another planet,

or galaxy. 

there is no big foot,

no loch ness

monster,

no goat man perusing

Tucker Road,

no 

Abominable Snowman

trudging

through

the drifts

to steal your child,

or snatch

your life,

but there are neighbors

who are

just as dangerous,

be on alert

for that devious smile.

we're not really going, are we?

we plan,

we make arrangements,

we

write down

our future itineraries

on

paper,

we check

the trains,

the flights out,

we look at the calendar,

our watches,

we check

the weather.

we're going somewhere

at some point,

we just don't know when,

do we?