Late September In The Park, Feeling Old

Five times I run around the lake -

once I ran without fear more than ten. 

Breathless I stop for pills and cake.

My feet are blistered. Will I ever run ten again ?

The squirrels turn leaves dry as bramble

lonely pensioners walk their hounds.

Kids ride trikes while their parents amble

regard me with pity - I feel old and out of bounds.

O savour these days, the bright autumn sky

the fat nervous crows who follow my every move.

Winter sounds though the sun is high

each second a gift - I've got nothing to prove.

This world doesn't listen, it closes all its doors

frowns on old blokes who run an extra mile.

Just leave the world to it - the injustices and wars

bow out with two fingers raised and an uncertain

   smile.

But see here - a handsome couple run nearby

young and ripe like acorns on a firm oak tree.

They disappear behind hedge rose and I know why:

a little death to  compound my late September

   misery.