Nayiri: In the Fall of Life

Golden leaves, sweaters and chills
Winter sliding down the hills
Arthritis, medicine and pills
Are somebody else’s ills.

Attaining three scores and ten
(when did this aging happen?)
Hit me like an absurd farce
Who? Me? I don’t grow that fast.

Shaky knees that disengage
Bones turning to cartilage
White hair growing on my crown
Are happenings I disown.

My heart beats much louder now
More than I care to allow.
I get sensational thrills
Sans those damned blood pressure pills

And if I were not so shy
I would write to Santa dear:
“Next time, please, when you stop by,
Knock louder, ‘cause I can’t hear.”