The Beauty of Aging


He wears the golden emblem
over his wedding ring—
the few the proud the brave—

these hands remember

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She washes bouquets of steel
in fragrant suds—
for him for children lost in time—

these hands remember

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the years offered
in love when patience
trembled in fear

before hope was for an eternity
remembered
and age was found in the work
of their hands.


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How to Age

         “How to age”

I start my car and see her,

she is standing in the doorway waving

         like a child waves

when parents leave for a weekend away.

I know her wave is saying don’t leave me

alone with him. He has hurried inside the

house. I spied him piling some of her

stuff into my trunk, the stuff he doesn’t want,

         his way of saying

I’m sending her with you and

I don’t want you to leave me alone with her.

I back down the driveway

        feeling so very old

              so very very old.

***

Written for PAD
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