Zealot of the crazy pavement or crazy paving.
One and the same to this short sighted pensioner.
Stoic though not reckless in staccato like stride.
Cane waving in a frosty, menacing sweep.
Age is neither plight nor hindrance only skewed perception.
When ageless spirits flourish.
Rendez-vous in a roundabout place to spite dementia.
Window flung open by grey haired neighbour without gumption.
Nosey gossip at the cutting edge of rumour.
Condescension from my own breed.
Cheerful greeting from care free youthful cyclist.
Thread marks of a different cycle await us all I fear.
Wind borne words of encouragement make the early morning chill seem less harrowing.
Intuition my one and only compass at this point.
At every point.
Be alert. Mind the icy patch astride the curb.
Ah there she is her wrinkled outline in feint colour.
Madam's crutches like my cane, a badge of honour.
Soul mate of a certain vintage.
A date with time
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