Breaking Down

Our bodies, like machines, break down, Their warranties expired, So slowly we relinquish Certain habits we’ve acquired. The jog morphs into walking; The glass of wine, a sip. The dinners switch to “early birds” At places not so hip. The muscles and the joints get stiff; We don’t move quite as fast. A good night’s sleep is something We remember from the past. We visit doctors, hoping they Can fix our aging parts Which, with the help of meds, improve But just in fits and starts. Perhaps the future will include A place that has displayed Some younger versions of ourselves So we can make a trade.