Advancing Age

Advancing Age


Age advances like a lingering malaise,
nothing definite, only the suspicion --
one isn't quite as capable as before;
perhaps, a few bulbs short of a chandelier.

Conversations which once could be heard from another room
now sound muffled in the presence of the speaker.
Memory, once like a steel trap, a veritable movie theatre
of scenes and pictures, has closed for the season.

Common phrases that once tripped from lips and tongue
hide in obscure places until not needed;
like errant privates they go A.W.O.L. when
they're required to advance an argument.

Vision, once like that of a hawk, clouds, allowing
words and objects to hide in murky safety.
Muscles, once rippling like a sack of serpents,
now hang like so many sacks of wet porridge.

Eyes, once clear and commanding are now rheumy,
Chiseled features now appear draped with dust covers,
Boldness of youth, throwing itself at challenges
has been replaced by worries of a hernia.

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