On Reminiscing...

     On Reminiscing

         On A Bench

Overlooking The Ocean

     On A Winter’s Day

’Twas the season to be jolly,

Our hearts were young and gay;

Now to be seen for what it was

                           really:

       of just another day

       at the beach.

Now, just out of reach

Of one’s memory.

              —

    And now the teachers

     are making it difficult 

         for the children

        to learn to read 

         and do maths.

   To be dumbed down

         to the level

           of cattle                   

           because

        of ‘identity

          politics’

        and other

    considerations.

        is this, then,     

       what it has all

       come down to

               in

         The End:

      Our planned

     obsolescence?

        To be kept

 from our excellence

    by our erstwhile

       morticians??

             No.

   I don’t think so.

    But then, who

      am I.  Just

     an old man

(and an old white male

 at that!  Feeling 

Somewhat like

A beached whale)

Sitting on a bench

Overlooking the ocean

On a winter’s day.

            The ocean -

          all unending -

Of my childhood.  

Or so it seemed

At the time.

                  But hey.

    That’s life

       for you

         too.