Death Versus the Hurricane

And one man in his time plays many parts,                       

      His acts being seven ages.  – Wm. Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 7


Can you imagine?  We age to a rare vintage quickly and

too quietly; but I refuse, and fight against being one

who slips into the poorly tailored costume of a man

left doddering in senility.  When Death calls I’ll swagger in.


But too many of my generation have embraced age as his

to revel in.  They see gray hair and paunch as trophies of time.

They rush to retirement, ignore the damage indolence plays

upon their looks, their thoughts, their memory.  Too many


laugh off the destructive nature time reeks on their parts.

Not so for me.  I’ll claim that I am Life’s and give Death his

only when I can no longer conjure and do my senseless acts.

I will revile the withering, weathering, decaying of my being


and shake my fist at Death’s riders, be they four or seven.

I’ll live as a hurricane rages while the ordinary man ages.


4 thoughts on “Death Versus the Hurricane

  1. Perfect message. The fear of one getting old and reaching that stage as we see the next generation still age through time and repeating the same cycle.

    Brilliant! writing. Your way and use of words is poetically superb!

    I love this my friend. I’m glad we are friends and following each others page.


    Liked by 1 person

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