… I’m not around much at the moment.  Thought you might like this photo:

and a little poem I wrote after seeing my license reapplication form.  Gob-smacked.

at a certain age
we are called upon
to renew our driver’s license

and bureaucracy
must sacrifice some trees
for their beloved forms

mainly straightforward
until I am asked to tick
male, female, or indeterminate

I ask you, at 75
I should have decided
what sex I am
by now…