Aging

He sat next to me, slumped slightly over

From years of boulders piling upon his shoulders

Though he still seemed as resilient and sturdy as an oak tree

With wrinkles, like bark, beside his eyes nestled gently

Providing proof that he once laughed hard enough to cry

His white hair wrapped from the back of his aged skull to the sides

Like a mountain range hiding the village of wisdom secluded in his mind

We talked about aging and how people often expect a linear progression

But he wrung his calloused hands together

Turned his stare to the floor beneath his over worn boots and said,

“You will watch your parents and their parents age

While noting comparisons of their degenerating health to your own

But what I have come to realize is that everyone ages differently

No matter how ready or prepared you think you may be.”

SWD 03/2018

Updated 05/2018

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7 Comments Add yours

  1. Nandita says:

    Letting you know that you write very well. 😊

    Liked by 1 person

  2. once again!
    watta beauty :’)

    Liked by 1 person

  3. rdicarne says:

    When you are the one aging, it really is difficult knowing what to expect. You make aging sound beautiful. I need to try and look at my aging that way too. Thanks.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. This is so beautifully written

    Liked by 1 person

  5. grimspound says:

    Beautifully expressed!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Wonderful post adn so true.

    Liked by 1 person

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