I wake in the morning
And what do I see
None other than me
A 6-foot 4 pale fleshy object
Which I have called home for 40 Christmas’
It includes the bits I like
Those I’ve grown used to
And those that have shown up with time
“Hello moles!”
Looking back
I can see what they saw
It takes practice to see it in the now
Its almost as if my reality is not theirs
Unless I choose it.
Growing comfortable in this home
For as long as I inhabit it
Seems to be key.