I see myself becoming old.
My closet is full of suits I don’t wear anymore.
Nothing I need to wear them for.
There are days when I stay in my pajamas till noon.
I think of my heirs looking at my wardrobe one day
asking “Can you think of anyone who can use these
or should we give them to Goodwill? ”
Or, “Would you like this tie as a remembrance of your Dad? ”
As I read the obits of the recently deceased,
which I took to doing a few years ago,
I compare their ages to mine.

Then there’s the arthritis in the hands and feet.
My left foot aches when I walk
and I suffered a rupture in a time-worn tendon not long ago.
I have more trouble lifting things and getting around.
I don’t jump over puddles anymore
for fear of the damage I might do coming down.
(No more kicking up heels for me.)

What will it be next?
There are the incipient cataracts,
and my hearing isn’t what it used to be.
I don’t think I need a hearing aid yet,
though my daughter disagrees.
Or will it be something unforeseen
like that ill-fated tendon?

Richard Greene

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-see-myself-becoming-old/