To my three year old granddaughter I am a bubble creature Fearless, friendly, loving To my sixteen year old grandson I am ancient, Full of idiosyncrasies, mixed With ridiculous wisdom To my yuppie son and daughter I am not so sharp, an old tight, selfish Hoarder, absent-minded Flying on his last wings But to me A jolly, dreaming, busy body A bit forgetful, I am A cosmopolitan interested in The musicals of Andrew Lloyd Weber, Mahler at the San Francisco Symphony Or Calder’s mobiles defying gravity Professional football, tennis aces, basketball seven footers Shapely ladies, scintillation And conversation are high on the list Many times of day a surge of Youth enters my body I walk, ride my bike, Drive to casinos and shoot craps Sit in the eighth row, center, of many plays Absorb myself in Beethoven to Shostakovich Join the hefty and brisk dancers at senior dance parties And listen avidly to live jazz or dance to the disk jockey’s tunes. Financial advisor, investor, Supervisor of real estate Sometimes I am clairvoyant, though No one listens. I stay up until 3 AM-sleep During the day I plan, dream, contemplate I Know the now.