This Thing Called Aging

—wThis Thing Called Aging 1All day, no, far more nearly for 2 years, I have been thinking I have had Enough of being old, being Pleasant about this form of present: I have had enough of this aging task. I wish to go back— not, no, not Return to my troublesome youth. No returning, please,but, perhaps, A re-setting of some physical, .Dimensional clock, just as springtime Returns every year and the perennials Re-grace us all around, splendidly, Their petals unscarred. I will concede to grayed hair, even to These painful bones, but I want To hand in how I drop every 3rd Thing I touch, misplace every 3rd Thing I set down, or take a fall every 3rd Outing I dare. How it goes on That I must ask help to stand, To lift, to fetch, to set down, to plan. As decades passed, perhaps I gained Some wisdom, tho now must pray Daily for strength. And even if I cannot travel anymore, I retain A universe of unknowns - by Faith - in Views from my soul, for which I need not squint or lean in closer To the turning pages... I was a ballet dancer in my youth. I miss in this aging, the liquidity Of motion, and I give apologies For my neediness, and also give Thanks for this continuing life... Not ballet, but a tango with language, And a promenade with my dreams: This concourse of wishing traverses A decrepit, wooden bridge failing Its hold over a river of inconsequence. And, next time these desires consume A further day, I shall laugh, Just as aging will have taught me to do. ********************************* sally young-Eslinger2020 (c)