PASSING MY PRIME
It’s been said life slips away much too fast,
And all that’s left are echoes of the past.
I thought, they can’t be right about old age,
For I will dance forever on life’s stage.
I felt challenged to accept in good grace
These wrinkles running rampant on my face.
The aches and pains that trouble here and there
Are minor problems I have learned to bear.
The years of dye that keeps my hair dark red
Hide strands of silver growing on my head.
I don’t embrace the ravages of time
Though I am past the point considered prime.
I’d like to think that what they say are lies,
But this old body’s saying otherwise.
11/21/95 – Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck
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