The lines deeper around my eyes,
my abundant cheeks falling.
Its in my hands with their veins,
my hair corse with gray poking through.
My joints, aching
my hips stiffening on rainy days.
My eyes, weakening from all the reading in the dark. (My parents were right)
My scars in abundance, tracing lines on this old familiar.
& with all that I feel in my body,
what I see of myself,
I have never felt joy deeper.
The absolute delight of a sunny day.
The joy of playing freely with my children in the afternoon light.
The price of age.
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