Looking Out A Window

Yesterday, I was glancing at the squirrels
at play in the yard and I wondered how,
from where I began, did I end up here? It
is quiet and safe, well appointed with all that
I need and a bit more. I am a squirrel playing
in the backyard of my life.
Retired, I miss working because I did that
routine for fifty years and it is a part of me.
I am no volunteer, that’s too much like work.
The squirrels remind me that life’s end
approaches so make the best of what is left
from a lifetime of sharing and toiling,
talking and helping. Ducking and the untimely
and well executed need to skedaddle is
remembered fondly as well.
Play is what makes us human. I was told
recently that I had a sense of humor. Uh huh.
Cultivated it over sixty years as soon as I
learned the concept of a joke, a pun, a
sarcastic thought.
So, here I stand looking through a window
into a past well enjoyed and well lived. Not
everyone can say that having died young or
being on the lam from bullets, exes, creditors,
or having been incarcerated for life. I am
quite blessed to be able to see the pictures
of my past in bright color clearity,
shared with a smile, even if a bit gray 
and frayed about the edges.
That said, joyous memories often
replace the bad ones with an optimism
that may not have been there exactly
like that at the time.

© allets 2023
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no comments or critique sought.
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