Ph: Humor: Are My ‘last Legs' In Sight? Poem by Brian Johnston

My time's ‘last legs? ' Are knees (or some cylinders knocking) ?
I've pedal to metal (feel stuck in low gears) .
Left side's window won't open; oil under hood freshens
cab air (is it dripping, perhaps, on exhaust?)
Of late, dipstick's plumb rusty (indecent exposure
to liquids that pampering doesn't restrain) .
And my faith in what's up too counts less than what's grounded
where tread on ground flagellates brain's flag in sky.

I love days where I spend time on porch now just rocking,
greet neighbors who come by, friends gained with the years,
and I've more time for feelings; poetic expressions
arriving get tenure, and fewer are lost.
Some voice praise for my verse, some eyes glaze (full disclosure) .
First group wins blue ribbons as friends of left brain.
I sure hope that this poem's read's fun (none feel pounded)
for no one enjoys life's true friends more than I!


Brian Johnston
7th of April in 2022