If I remember correctly,
It began at the temples.
I thought it most distinguished
Mature, even attractive -
Though it was the foreboding
of things to come.
Over decades, it spread gradually
Over the head, face and chest.
Now I notice it appearing
On my forearm, in ones and twos.
It took away the lustre in my eyes,
Strength in my limbs -
The slowing down of the systems
Is ominous than ever.
It is evening; sitting in my armchair,
I look at the sunlight slanting,
Night creeping up, cold.
I stretch my legs, take another sip
Of the Whisky.
He will come
When wind starts
Rattling the windows,
Swirling up dust
Settling it gently on this floor
When rain falls pitter-patter
When fireflies start to dance -
Silently he will come
On the wings of the Great Horned Owl.