I have been sorting through old papers and photograph. Slowly separating them into trash or to save. There were a lot that I had accumulated and others that were passed to me by relatives who've passed on. It's no simple job. Some deals with our family's history and others may be important to others.
I am getting older, aging, but not to gracefully. I want to fight it off for another few years anyway.
Another cool night. I actually built a small fire to help warm my house overnight. If the rden is dry, I might run the rototiller through it again today.

I look at my face in the mirror.
Who is this man staring back at me.
Scales tell my weight rom the bathroom floor.
Wishing to lose, but the same I see.
As I've aged, my whiskers have turned gray.
New wrinkles appear, others are known.
I'm intimate with my face each day;
brushing teeth, shaving, trim hair that's grown,
my thinning hair and my shaggy brow,
a bit of baggage under my eyes.
Who is this old man who looks back at me now?
It looks much like me but in disguise.