I love this word, it is like a remnant of the past,
it explodes on the scene but never seems to last,
an application of spirit and energy and even dare
I say muscle and intellect, something now so rare.
As I climb the steps of my imagination now slow,
it once was quick, two or more, certain I’d know,
where I was going and what would be at the top,
never realizing I’d find beyond this a long drop
into a far less vigorous state, where I’d sit thinking
what I’d not give to avoid the feel of energy sinking.
Know the feeling all too well, Mike. To me it’s like preaching to the choir. And I got 10 years on you.