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May 25, 2022

It was inevitable.
Time added to gravity
exponentially slid skin
and muscle
perpetually downward,
piling up at knees,
wagging under arms.
Fearing refugee status,
pounds jumped and clung
to waist lines and muffin tops,
hanging over pants.
It wasn’t the clothes.
They acted appropriately.
It was the flesh that became
delinquent and ornery.
Criminal.
Such is aging at its surface.
Not so down deep.
There we age with grace,
wiser and more eloquent.
Beautiful and full.
Grateful for the breadth 
and breath 
of each day.