Old Now – August Poem #14

three_sisters

To: Andrew Shattuck McBride

Old Now14._old_now

We’re all headed to the
bone yard.
Even then, marching
towards walkers,
wheel chairs and
oxygen tanks.
Now we see each
other once a year. The
kids say they need
to get us
together more often. “How strange
the boys all died.” you say.