Growing Clueless
At seventeen I thought
I had this life figured out.
At twenty-seven I was certain of it,
but with every passing decade
I have become less and less certain,
until, at seventy, though I know more than ever,
I feel utterly clueless.
4 thoughts on "Growing Clueless "
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I am with you, brother!
Kinship of the Clueless!
Absolutely! “Growing Clueless” is a great title.
Thanks, Sylvia!