When I was young
I never thought I would be old.
It wasn’t real to me.
I imagined kindly grandmothers and grandfathers
in rocking chairs on porches or in nursing homes.
telling exagerated stories about the Great Depression
when nobody had nothin’,
or the old country before anyone even had a radio,
exactly as I saw the old people I knew.
I hadn’t imagined yet that it would be different,
that it would be me. How could I?
I didn’t know me now then.
I didn’t realize how age humbles us,
though it was always there to see.
Now, I look back and I can’t imagine being young,
It’s just not real to me, like a faded photograph
I’ve been trying to unload.
I’ll give to anyone who will take it.
because it’s just too damned heavy
and it’s too hard to hold onto,
and I don’t need it anymore,
and really, it’s all just this stuff that happened,
like things have always happened,
like that falling star out over the ocean last night.
Now that was real…..and so beautiful……
and I missed it.
RR 1/19/16 – Barra