I'm an obsolete

I'm an obsolete
the antonym of athlete
because I don't like rambunctious people

I remember the days
of polite swallows
of teas and crumb-cakes,
when men wore fedoras,
as handsome on their heads outside
as on the hat-rack in our foyer

and you had to admire the way
they'd open the door of their automobile
and wait for a lady to seat herself
before gently closing the door
and driving us to the Palladium Ballroom

now I sit by the pond in my garden,
left fallow in my obsolescence,
so I ring the bell to summon the nurse
for my pills and some pleasant conversation

/ / /

This poem was written in response to Wordle 25 at The Sunday Whirl.

I'm raising funds for The Office of Letters and Light, the nonprofit organization that sponsors National Novel Writing Month in November. Please check out my Night of Writing Dangerously post, or see the sidebar note between the two NaNoWriMo web badges. I'm one-third of the way to my goal!