Aging

I can no longer run,

my knees don’t allow it,

if I ignore them,

heedless,

they knock me down.

Callouses grow in the strangest places,

on the bottom of my toe,

near the ever-larger bunyon

and the curving hammer-toe,

I sometimes stare at my own hands,

with their brown age spots

and rivers of veins,

A walk in the park is exercise,

I enjoy a mile or two.

I want to age,  gracefully,

enjoying the time I’m given,

My experience makes me who I am,

each day a gift from heaven,

My life is ages, and stages of trials,

with twists and turns unforeseen,

The beauty of life is appreciated,

the more age intervenes.

cfblack  7-20-2016  

 

 

 

 

Leave a comment