After 89 - Aug. 31, 2024

think about ninety

the once smooth dunes of your face

now exposed rock cut by tributaries

sweat  tears and ruts of many journeys

the mind  formerly a clear lake with

easy fishing for words and ideas

is today’s shrinking pond of huddling fish

unwilling to rise for most bait

legs and arms have begun to disinherit

joints  your strongest hand struggles

to crack the cap of a water bottle

even a stiff wind might cause a stumble

I hope it’s true that love becomes softer

held more gently  thanked every day

not for working bones or lips or muscles

but for filling the beats of the heart

ever slowing 

ever more precious

so mysteriously    counted