On Aging
A Sonnet
Age is the shadow I can never see,
It follows me everywhere by day,
Slowing me down and tugging on one knee,
Forcing me to seek the easiest way.
I don’t climb the ladder much anymore,
I need my glasses to see the fine print,
I sit in chairs and rarely on the floor,
Trying to hear over noise is torment.
Yet most times I forget that I’m old now
Until I look in the mirror and see
Hair that’s turned white, deep furrows in my brow,
Signs of age that set me free to be me.
Family, friends, experiences gained
Each day, each month, each year leads to all attained.
I have enough years to make me an expert in the aging part of this prompt, but this is the first time I’ve submitted a sonnet for publication. Thanks, Jonny and all playground poets for encouraging me to stretch!
I love Miriam Connolly’s, Gemeyes’s and J. William’s poems showing different perspectives on aging.
