When you are old and gray and full of sleep-
And the morning light breaks upon the hill-
Your weary bones creak with the havoc of arising-
Breaking the absolute of earlys morns still;

The stillness breaks the world awake-
As our gray fights to overcome infirmity-
Morning eggs stir yellow upon this stove of life-
And saves our sinews from utter calamity;

We move our sleepy bodies ever slowly-
Tired bones but awaiting the noontime sun-
Gray and old we manage our steps in frail paces-
As we do when day has finally begun;

A heaviness envelopes in late afternoon-
Four P.M. announces many a fragile yawn-
Heart beats struggle to flow the blood-
Congested from damage thats been done;

Dinner arrives with plates of health?
Struggling to make our nutrition right-
Preparing our gray bodies for ebons arrival-
Flannel nighties and long johns for the night;

The twilight and dusk permeate now-
As the sun sets over the hill in the west-
The old and the gray yawning eyes heavy lidded-
Prepare for a night of sleep and hopefully restoring rest;

Theodora (Theo) Onken

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/golden-years-a-day-in-the-life-of-seniors/