Thinking at 3 Am

The house is quiet at 3 AM, no creaking, no sound except for the small bells that always ring in my ear. It is as though the house and kitchen and floor and chair are there only as a cocoon for my thinking. An old mans thoughts do not lack consistency. As man for eons has seen himself the keeper, so do I still take on the role of provider and protector The poems in Thinking at 3 AM are tender, poignant, and frank expressions of the emotions of aging and the last phases of life. They also deal wi...