I’m … speechless.

(HT: Joe Blackmon >> ATITW)

Don’t laugh … you’ll be there someday

A humorous PSA (HT: Fred Butler):

See also (on a much more serious note) this poem by Elizabeth Jennings entitled “Old People’s Nursing Home”, posted at the Connexion. It starts:

“The men have ceased to be men, the women, women.
Or so it appears at first.
Here are children dressed for a meal, napkins in collars,
Here are meals from the nursery, here is the nurse.
So it appears to one who is half
Within this house and half outside.
“It will be calm,” someone suggested.

And so it seemed at first - tidy and calm
With the weather outside tidy and calm,
The carpets, pressed to the walls, forbidding noise,
No smell of a hospital, no smell at all,
And that is what I longed for first, the scent
Of a hyacinth bypassing sickness and pungent with growth,
Perfume thrust on the wrist and rising in clouds
In circles of foreign summers.

But there was no smell, not even the deathly sick
Odour of death. And then I realized …”