... held onto you as long as Icould, but you were too slippery -
you slid through my fingers and fell
on the floor. Body too old to
bend over, pick up, so must leave
you where you are. Going to be
strange, when asked, "How old?" to answer
in higher numbers than I'm used
to saying. Goodbye, forty eight,
helloooo, forty NINE. (Nearly a
half century: ahhh, now why did
I have to think of it like that??)
(c) 2008, Karla Dorman
No comments:
Post a Comment