Where will I go
When your legs are no longer the solid, brown tree trunks
Standing side by side?
When your buttocks are no longer a firm
Mountain turn taken at high speed
When your back and your belly no longer sway in parallel
Two sides of the road
But fall all out of proportion to each other, a sprawling superhighway
When your arms are sagging and obsolete
Telephone wires laden with crows
Your head, a dusty tumbleweed
Forgetting where it's been.
By then, my eyesight will be fading
No longer alert to the signs
My reflexes will be less sharp
Good for more gentle turns and fewer surprises
My need to arrive there now
Will change to a need to savor the time I spend traveling
And you will still be my journey
And my destination.
I think we all know who I'm talking about.