Pagosa Springs Artists

Getting Older

I noticed first in my right shoulder,

not as strong, nor as limber,

no longer sporting the easy timbre

of youth, to tell the truth.

 

Then what aged was my back,

my lower back no longer was

supple and slack, rather going

stiff and refusing to tack.

 

I stubbed my toe, which curled

and won't straighten, now rubs

the tops of shoes, and ages

my appearance on beaches.

 

It's embarassing to meet

an old friend whose name

I can't recall, can't send

from my brain to my tongue.

 

And my fingers, when bent,

won't straghten, the ligaments

stuck in their sheaths unless

pushed into place, which makes

playing the piano verboten.

 

first published in AllPoetry.com

©2014 Bonnie Manion

   

Poem of the Month

  • October - 2019
  • "Rich"