If I lost my body parts, I would not be joyous in the loss. Already they are trying to sneak off. My feet ache. My knees sore and stuff, slowing me down. Words blur without glasses. My lips are unable to sustain a good whistle. If I could, I would be at the edge of the sea watching my shadow in the moonlight. But the sea is far away. Rain clouds hide the shadows. One night I will catch it in my drive, between the trees, before the too powerful streetlights blot it out.