Taking Inventory

The mattress, the sheets, the bed springs, the cover,
The pillows, their cases (a gift from my mother.)
The carpet, the sofa, the TV, the chair,
No more reclining without some repair.
It’s not like I’m shopping for something new;
I’m replacing, repainting, re-upholstering too.

It isn’t exciting, no reason to shout.
By the time you reach sixty, some things are worn out.

The curtains, the counter, the stove, and the sink,
The microwave oven, the pipes, oh, I think
Owning a house requires quite a crew:
Handyman, plumber, electrician, and YOU!
And I'm getting quite high maintenance too.
My knees are both shot, and my elbows are too.

It happens to all of us, no need to pout.
By the time you reach sixty, more things are worn out.

And now for my husband; he hasn’t a clue.
His hair is thinning; his joints are sore too.
I would replace him, but why start over new?
His assets are many; his faults are so few.
And we’ve been married since ‘72.
(Perhaps it’s our vows that we need to renew.)

It’s pretty typical; there is no doubt,
By the time you reach sixty, most things are worn out.


2009