Don Iannone Poet Free verse

As We Grow Older

Growing older is a carousel  
of highs and lows, each spin a memory, each turn a change.  
It’s the morning ache in places you never thought could hurt,  
the pizza you once devoured now a restless night’s companion.

Your vision softens, sounds blur,  
and the quiet hum of life’s smaller details becomes elusive.  
Doctors' visits and pill bottles mark the passing months,  
while hair thins, and skin loosens where once strength resided.

Nights grow lighter, dreams grow heavier  
with visions of a younger self, running through the past.  
The faces of friends and family fade, some taken too soon,  
others by the slow hand of time, all leaving empty chairs.

Yet gratitude remains a quiet current,  
a whispered song beneath the noise of change.  
For the laughter still brightens days, the tear still falls,  
reminding us of what remains, what we hold close.

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