Should I praise you?
There are those that would say, “Consider the alternative.” It’s hard to gainsay them, but does that mean I owe you such gratitude that I should sing adulations?
You, in whom the aches compound. You, in whom I glance in the mirror, and each time notice more of a stranger staring back. When did my hairline rise? More grays? How much farther will those crow’s feet extend? You, in whom I feel so tired so often.
And yet I do praise you. For every day in your company is a statement of survival. The vissisitudes of rash youth? Long in the rearview. The personalities that once subjugated me? Well in my wake. The arrogance and ignorance that once counseled me? Shattered daily by dearly-purchased wisdom, the kind paid for only in time and reflected experience.
So here’s to you, my prime middle-age, my antechamber of old. Long may I walk in your company.
withered leaves
afloat in the wind
Autumn sky
for Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Ode To Ageย (posted by Sumana)
Frank J. Tassone 
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