by Steve Gaines
yet another lament
in me
hidden behind a soft spreading waistline
lies an aging man alone
he is limping quietly along
such a well-worn path
in his creaks and cracks
he is the only one ever
to suddenly come smack up against middle age
he is quietly afraid
he is the oldest man in the world
who used to be young
he is the first man to wonder
where the old tricks have gone
growing old is an individual sport
his jump has fallen on flat times
his once crystal clear vessels
have clouded up
one year very soon now
he will wake up at fifty
bouncing grandchildren on his arthritic knees
and his mind will be always young…
in spite of that dreaded tomorrow
