A short poem from the book by Judy Viorst, I’m Too Young To Be Seventy.

We’re on our way to the party, our speed decreased
Because we can’t remember our hostess’s name.
I say it has 3 syllables at least.
she says it’s like a boy’s, but not the same.

I say it rhymes with “skirt” and start with “R.”
She says it ends with “a” and not with a “t.”
And just before we’ve finally parked the car,
We reach “Roberta” simultaneously.

Oldies date

In our long years together we have shared
One family and one life of joy and pain,
Not knowing that we’ve slowly been prepared
To live ‘fifty/fifty,” also, share one brain.

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