Poetry

Litanies Against Dying, 4 (186.)

When I put on a hoodie
to kill the cold,
the frigid air isn’t dead and gone;
it is merely handled.
A change in the way one deals
is often likened to death,
though it is really simple
adaptation.
I am become
else,
the same person
with a new pair of somethings.
Fresh eyes, new perspective,
different thought process –
these changes
kick dust from the cogs
and set the machine spinning.
To achieve the retirement of old philosophies –
that’s as good a reason as any
to dance the long night away.

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