Palaver Jaw

Summer’s sun

perches

atop

the highest

spot

in the sky.

Scavenger

spies

its carrion crawl

across the horizon

of the porch.

Zorched

in the heat

the months tumble by, dry

husks.

Empty days

quarantining

against the unseen, 

enemy

such is age.

The deliberate 

forgetfulness

playing games

with growing shadows

as our days 

linger 

longer.

We rock here, 

spittle

dripping 

from our chins,

the curvature

teetering back and forth

between

past 

and present,

a see-saw

for us old-timers

set

in our ways

from remembering

why we came out here in the first place.