Life in all its Glory

I was some 76 years old last June
but don't feel wiser than a year and a minute ago.
I ride my third bicycle (the first two were stolen).

Time seems not to slow nor step aside.
I have not felt as threatened
as I might . . . I had a job until I didn't
and a monthly SS check
slowly building an annuity of sorts . . .

But even though I find food for most tomorrows,
what becomes of all my creature friends?
I see them as I walk about,
some with soddy blankets, and some without;
and what of all those aging bikes with contested owners?