NOW I AM GROWING OLD

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Now that I am growing old, the circle darkens

under the eye.

Fingers broken in a long forgotten fall

cry out.

What mattered once has been broken

into small and smaller measurements of the space

we all are falling through.

The one I love calls me by a name that is no longer mine.

Her voice is like the Gulf, silver and curling.

The name she calls me is one wave within her, flecked with tar.

Coming closer, I am being lifted now.

The one I love is bending over me

looking me full in the face.

.

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3 thoughts on “NOW I AM GROWING OLD

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