Being well 'over the hill'
My body feels old
It aches and it pains!
Whitman and Broughton
Whisper to me
To the rhythm of train...
On tracks, as I journey
Heading up North
To see my old ma'
I hear:
To the creeping decrepitude of body,
The soul hymns Joy
"Joy to Death: Joy to the Life Eternal"
Mushroom, Walt and James
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