.018 Old Age

bring with you, Old Age,
sickness and weakness,
i am ready and accepting
because i know the creak
in my ankle comes from a day at the lake
with a girl i once loved.  the burning
in my wrists, from long nights
of letter writing and sanding maple restorations.
my eyes are cloudy with memories
of books, and the weight of sunsets
are hard to hold now.  i choke,
sometimes, on breakfast, berries,
because after all these years
they are still just as sweet.


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