I am older now--coming on 82 years!
I wonder how, with so many dropping dead around me,
That I have made it so far.
The ones close and still around me--many--ignore me
Or are short, and only text--seeing that they
Have such 'demanding' pressure to exist!
I remember the (Newton, MA) neighbor children
Across the street banging their kitchen pots--
The end of WWII of which I was not really cognisant
Nor of its horrors.
I did learn later how my father designed
The Army Aircorps oxygen masks to fly--freeze free--
Higher above the Axis powers' aircraft.
I timidly was involved in the Civil Rights movement,
But when Vietnam loomed into our lives,
I was strongly involved in protests and countering wherever I could.
The planet is now challenged with our neglect of the air and sea.
The remainder of my life will be towards staving off this disaster.
But as I age, there are those who respect my efforts
And those who do not yet recognize my worth:
Strong statements to put me in my place.
Loving outreach which I wish for;
Lost because of the new communication--
Little talk and only the cold world of texting and emails.
I am not sure of what will become of me or my conservation attempts.
I feel helpless in the looming of inevitable death.
I will be in eternal darkness and powerlessness.
No longer able to care nor help nor act.
Will someone reach out with a soft, warm, loving hand?
Frank Maurer 3 to 4 April 2023
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