To remember new words every week
is a small task for any word geek,
but as I get older
my bloodstream gets colder,
my brain starts to leak
and words start to sound Greek.
With no paddle to shoulder,
my thinking will molder
as I drift downstream in this creek.

Ken Gosse usually writes whimsical, rhymed verse. First published in First Literary Review–East in November 2016, later in Pure Slush, Home Planet News, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Spillwords, and many others. Raised in Chicago suburbs, now retired, he and his wife live in Mesa, AZ, with rescue dogs and cats.