I forgot the pot of pansies they gave me
so Billy dropped it off
along with an old Cool Whip container
crammed with leftover party goodies:
tiny cream puffs and
three different kinds of cheesecake
wrapped in ruffled papers
so they won't stick together.
From my chair on the porch
I watch rain drizzle down,
a glistening cube of raspberry cheesecake
and a tall gin and tonic on the ledge next to me.
I reflect on the day and my party,
remember other birthdays.
Then I think about next year,
going from sixty-nine to seventy,
a major milestone.
In my mind I haven't aged.
I'm still 35 or 43, even 61, but not 70.
Seventy is daunting and scary.
I'm more aware of my mortality now,
there's a sense of urgency to do
all the things I still want to accomplish.
But just for today, I'll savor being
on this side of the seven.
on this side of the seven.
I refuse to be thought of as
used up or irrelevant. I want to own my wisdom
and embrace new challenges,
I want to age with grace.
I am still here, I am living.
2 comments:
This one is very familiar. Thought about writing a birthday poem for my 70th, but couldn't get past the opening line..."I've never been seventy before"...and the poem never got written, lol. I did write one for my fiftieth and I still think it has a touch of elegance about it. It's one of my favorites. Reality is 70 anything means old, someone's failing grandmother, or batty old aunt. Although I'd like to ignore the whole concept, I'm feeling every inch of those years. NaPo has helped a lot, letting me know I can still do something of value, have something to offer. And I still think of myself much younger and able to move about in a manner I lost somewhere along the way. Needless to say, I'm still looking for the gold in these "golden" years. Happy Birthday, ahead of time...
Elizabeth
https://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2019/04/29/on-being-a-sister-to-trees/
Marianne,
Nice visuals in this poem. Age doesn't worry me now that I have pushed the 60 mark. I think many people are denied the opportunity to age and be with their loved ones. Thanks for joining me on the poetry extravaganza this month.
Love,
Pamela
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