There’s a lot of material.
The first aggravations of a rusting body—
the estrogen, the statins, the colonoscopies.
The mounting aches. A few heartbreaks.
The heart patched up—a botched job.
The odyssey of marriage,
the improv of parenthood.
The divorces. Old friends with new girlfriends,
giddy love after thirty years of drought.
The farewells of those your age—
the orphanings, the suicides, the freak accidents.
The wisdom that never comes.
The regrets.
The memory that slips—playfully at first.
The sounds that fade—except for the call of the Earth,
growing louder and louder.
First Appeared in The Lake: Contemporary Poetry Webzine (August 2025)