Antique Horns

Painfully aware
of the loss of the bloom.
Bewildered, beware
the size of the room
and a sneaking suspicion
about the price of my stock
and my tenuous position
as a decaying dock
where less ships will moor
less cargo be stored
fewer trips will be taken
the decks ignored
and the price of a cruise
slips out of reach
where there's nothing familiar
at the bar or the beach
but the smell of an old dollar bill...

I will arrive
grown old
my sleek yacht sold
and replaced with
planks
and oars.

I have arrived
as old
still no one's cuckold
and replaced with
pranks
and boors.