i know. you know this privilege
denied many, this gift of age,
being long of life. pleasures
charging dues paid
with guilt, pain, and sorrow.
now i see that it’s
no longer me; old bones
with thin skin,
lost hair
or worthless white wisps.
does this looking-glass lie?
let me be what i was—
young. look, old man. look at me.
i’m your truth.
See truth and reality in the looking glass. Mind the gaps and ignore the bald spots.
Our Literary Journey 
Turned 55 yesterday. Not so many years as some, but a LOT of rough miles. This one hit home today.
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My dad just turned 81 on Sunday. he sure as hell didn’t think he’d get this old, being a smoker, a farmer exposed to all sorts of chemicals, etc. He’s kinda bemused with the whole thing.
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“If I knew I’d live this long, I’d a taken better care of myself.” 🙂 Best wishes to Dad.
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“It’s not how old you are, but how you are old.” –Evan Esar
My mind wants to agree, but my disagreeable body says, “Yeah, right.”
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