What will and will not last

Well the dog is on her last leg,

my mom, her last refrigerator.

That elderly couple I climbed with in the Alps: the tread is shot on their boots but what’s the sense in getting another pair, they laughed.

Me, I’m on my first and last hammock.

Some things last a lot longer than you think they would but most things don’t.

As a bit of advice, book your air and fly while you can.

Time can be as bountiful as tap water, but the wells have been known to freeze.

Categories: poetry, writing


6 replies

  1. May your dog’s last leg be a time of slowing to the pace of appreciating moments sheerly for their coming … (May we all have such final legs …)

    Liked by 2 people

    • Why thanks Jazz! Yeah, CCL replacement # 2 this week and man, she is showing it. Appreciate the well wishes there (you Texans inspired the well freezing ref, by the by).


  2. The final line reminded me of Aesop’s fable of two frogs who find a well and think it’s an ideal place to live until one asks, “What if the water dries up?” But what would life be if we didn’t sometimes put aside the “what ifs” and dive in?

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hey Christopher, nice to hear from you! Thanks for this, yeah I think I know the story you’re talking about. Glad it triggered something for you, I know how you feel about poetry from a post earlier this year, hope you’ve been enjoying these playful whims from time to time. Thanks for joining in, appreciate it.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. The Rockies may tumble / Gibraltar may crumble/ Old dogs may stumble / But Bill’s musings are here to stay.

    Liked by 1 person

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