An Entertainment for W.S. Graham for Him Having Reached Sixty-Five

What are you going to do With what is left of yourself Now among the rustling Of your maybe best years? This is not an auto-elegy With me pouring my heart Out into where you Differently stand or sit On the Epidaurus steps. What shall I say to myself Having put myself down On to a public page? Where am I going now? And where are you going Tricked into reading Words of my later life? Let me pretend you are Roughly of my age. Are you a boy or a girl? And what has happened to you? Look at the chirping various Leaves of Mr Graham’s Spanking summer. Where are You at? I know my face Has changed. My hair has blanched Into a wrong disguise Sitting on top of my head. Beside each other perched On the Epidaurus steps. Where am I going to go? Shall I rise to follow The thin sound of the goats Tinkling their bells?