passing myself
on the way to savannah

and all the other places
i’ve never been

never seen
never learned
to love the light of

that’s bad grammar
i know
but i’m talking about life
and loss and nevers

and there are no rules
no platitudes
no built-in panaceas
to make my knees
stop creaking
or my hands
look any less
gnarled

don’t get me wrong

i wear my wrinkles
like jewelry
cherished accessories
of sentimental
value

and i smile
when i drive and they remind me
i’ve forgotten to apply
lotion

again

dry skin cracking

me up

and five times a day
i get surprised
by my own reflection

remembering i’ve aged
only when i see proof
or try to get out of bed

time
hides in patterns
paisley pretty and
just as intricate
as the web
i’ve spun
into my
crinkle crackle
carapace

but my shadow
retains the shape
of youth

or at least
remains smooth
and unmarked

by the scars
of regret

and i sip
slowly
from the cup
of forgiveness

.

.

.

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4 Responses to “passing myself
on the way to savannah”

  • rum blue Says:
    July 28th, 2015 at 10:10 am

    This. IS. Perfection. I will be back and back and back to devour this many times.

    “and there are no rules
    no platitudes
    no built-in panaceas”

    Thank heavens that’s true some.whERE. There are so very many rules everywhere else.

    “dry skin cracking

    me up” … Love. 🙂 So glad you have a sense of humor about things.

    Especially aging. If we keep laughing, then our shadow children will never get old. Thank you, thank you for this sage advice.

    Keepin’ real and stoop-id (the good way) up in my head. Stayin’ alive. (Gotta keep hummin’.)

    You are the wise momma of the world. To me, that is super sexy. You’ll never be forgotten, even when you’re “dead.” You know? Kids always come back to their mommas.

    This. Is a test. Of the American Broad Caste System. And you pass, with flying colOrs.

    We’ll keep you, says little sis.

    Love this:
    “time
    hides in patterns
    paisley pretty and
    just as intricate
    as the web
    i’ve spun”

    Liquid forgiveness = coffee. Praise Jesus, Hallelujah … And now I’m off on Iggy. Something is seriously wrong with a girl who can’t keep her thoughts on Jesus and off of Iggy. It’s sheer torment, every second of life.

    Reply
  • Maery Rose Says:
    July 28th, 2015 at 12:57 pm

    Love this expression of the aging experience. We all seem to connect in spirit on this journey.

    Reply
  • X Says:
    July 28th, 2015 at 5:24 pm

    dry skin
    cracking you up – Ha.

    We all age, and I think wearing our wrinkles (&scars) as jewelry is a wonderful way to approach life.

    Sometimes we need to forgive ourselves, especially for aging.

    Reply
  • grapeling Says:
    August 9th, 2015 at 1:37 pm

    can you parcel post me that cup? mine cracked… ~

    Reply

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