by Steve Gaines

yet another lament

in me
hidden behind a soft spreading waistline
lies an aging man alone

he is limping quietly along
such a well-worn path
in his creaks and cracks
he is the only one ever
to suddenly come smack up against middle age

he is quietly afraid

he is the oldest man in the world
who used to be young
he is the first man to wonder
where the old tricks have gone

growing old is an individual sport

his jump has fallen on flat times
his once crystal clear vessels
have clouded up

one year very soon now
he will wake up at fifty
bouncing grandchildren on his arthritic knees
and his mind will be always young…

in spite of that dreaded tomorrow

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.