It’s Something Called AGE
Do I hear a knock, knock? My reverie is rudely interrupted as I plumb the depths to another world. Something suspicious is creeping in with jarring aches and numbing pain repeated reminders of life losing its rosy hues to listless, grey fatigue. The silent struggle pelted by fading sound dims fury’s fire bottled in a sagging body. Forget those senior moments staying “39” forever now wrapped in wrinkles listening to crackling bones climbing the stairs to nowhere. Sensitive to sunlight’s glare memory fastens to a melody munching mechanically on tasteless fiber while walking off those extra pounds clinging like seaweed to cushioned fat. The air laced with fumbling complaints meets thinning top hair sprouting elsewhere in speeding abandon. That afternoon nap freshens minds caught in tech mishaps visiting streams of doctors pushing pills aplenty with no end in sight. “In my day…” sounds hollow as reality casually slips into that sly sleeve called AGE.