Becoming Old e-bog

A collection of poems on aging, such as:I See Myself Becoming OldMy 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 picture my heirs looking at my wardrobe one dayasking "e;Can you think of anyone who can use theseor should we give them to Goodwill?"e;Or, "e;Would you like this tie as a remembrance of Dad?"e;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 my hands and feet. My left foot aches when I walkand I suffered a rupture in a time-worn tendon not long ago. I have more trouble lifting things and getting around. Don't jump over puddles anymorefor fear of the damage I might do coming down. (No more kicking up heels for me.)What will it be next,the incipient cataracts?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 unforeseenlike that ill-fated tendon?I see myself becoming old,yet it's as if I were watching it happen to somebody else.