In Which I Ponder How My 90th Birthday Passed And No One Sent Me A Card...

My books and furniture and chattels, all,
I trundled down steep stairs into a truck
In nineteen hours with a short break to scrawl
My name on many forms. I soon was struck
With pains in knees and forearms and my back,
And in the tissues nestled in between.
My new house is a wonder - I've lost track
Of just how oft I've said so; my joy's keen.
But suddenly I move as though old age
Did overtake me roughly in my sleep.
And spent this morning crying out in rage,
Because I couldn't find my keys, and keep
Forgetting where I'll find my underwear.
I'm living through a pre-senescent scare.