The years collect weight.
Dimples of time, freckled and wan
Furrowed brows and deep lines drawn

Luggage too heavy to move is too heavy to lose.
The shelf bends and bows and creaks
Beard once black now grays in streaks

Dust kicked up by bucks in rut
Settles now into layers on the floor
Long enough lived to know there’s not enough more

A face I see old, so new to me.
The mirror taunts and teases and insults
The tauts now loose, the joints in revolt

Reason and rhyme lost in time.
Carefully crafted plans float away
Lost in wakes of day after day after day

Loss and losses embossed and mounted
Each a notch on weathering post
Each a nod to a withering host

What doesn’t kill, stronger does make
Until the last and death does take
Laugh louder and longer as light wanes
If only to numb the pain.


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