A poem I wrote about the experience of getting older –
Getting Older Stings
Like a spray of hot pebbles – little stings that you feel but shrug off.
Slowly blisters form: skin over tears.
Nodding off during the news,
Getting no questions when I ask for a senior’s discount,
Noticing I think anyone under 50 is young,
Going to retirement parties,
Little stings.
Learning I’m two inches shorter,
Noticing I can’t run up stairs anymore,
Wobbling if I walk too far,
Hearing that child call me an old lady,
Blisters.
Socializing at funerals,
Listening for ages in death announcements
Fretting because I haven’t updated my will,
Wondering who that I love will ‘pass’
before I die.
Joan Vinall-Cox 2012