The Person Behind The Posts

Sunday, March 31, 2024

But I’m Old Now



 But I'm Old Now

But I’m old now. Not
walker with green-yellow tennis balls old, not

But those who were young mothers alongside me are
grey (or white-haired) now.

Our faces, lined with lives more lived than not yet lived.
Our jowls, softened with years.

Each summer, I float in blue pool water on my back,
face tipped to the sun.
The joy of it makes me weep. I
take less for granted.

A good day is when I can
read for six hours and not trouble
to work. I work

sometimes, but my career is more past
tense than future.

I found myself
long ago.
My soul
dominates mostly these days,
about pizza, the body
still holds sway.

Just as I failed
to learn the stories of my own grandparents (I should have forced them to tell me
their secrets),
my grandchildren
won’t know me. Not really.

Afternoon naps are more frequent and
sweeter. And

even so, I have work yet to do. I’m making plans