i remember when my great grandfather, Do rest his soul, was towards the end of his long and fulfilling life. He used to get into a lot of expository talk like this, he would go into tangents, and discuss irrelevant details of no consequence, which would require much patience as you waited for him to get to the point. I seen the same kind of talk from this old man. if you have been lucky to live with a 90 year old, you can clearly hear the signs of old age creeping in:
Go gentle into that good night,
Old age creeps like the last embers of a camp fire at dawn;
Go quietly into dying light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Go quitely into dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Go quietly into dying of the light.