When I'm Forty-Seven

I'm glad this floated up to the top again.  Sometimes there's nothing wrong with a simple poem that conveys honest sentiment.  As if everything needs to live up to some poetic pantheon of highminded verse, with common (or overused) words being verbotten.  In other words, I like this poem.  Further, unspoken references to the moon are interesting too, not to mention the interesting way of describing tides as a metaphor.

Then again, as a 47 year old word sculpter who loves cardinals, maybe I'm biased