Looking Out A Window

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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
05-07-19
846a
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© allets 2020
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no comments or critique sought.
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