Reluctantly
A strange thing happens as I age,
Which cannot be controlled.
I tend to focus, everywhere,
On people who are old.
Today, a doctor’s waiting room,
A check-up for my eyes,
Was filled with those so elderly,
From seats they couldn’t rise.
As names were called, they shuffled out,
(Our wait time very wrong!)
But watching them, I wondered,
Is this group where I belong?
To get there, on the bus I sat
As people moved inside,
With canes and walkers, hoping
For a seat unoccupied.
And on TV, up on the stage,
On Oscar night, I saw
The older actors missing
All their sparkle, once a draw.
When I was young, I rarely noticed
Seniors within range,
Yet now, reluctantly, I see
My view’s begun to change.
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