The Gelosi Project

4rty

A poem for my birthday:

I tipped passion over the curb
and watched him stumble on his heels.
I don’t know what made me do it.
I spied his spindly little ankles
and indulged the urge to trip them up.
He bounced onto the asphalt
and spun down the road
with a few of my youthful hopes
tangled between his legs.
It’s my own fault
that I am now chasing after him,
huffing and puffing,
in my soft body,
shouting apologies
and bruising spotted skin
when I dive to catch him.
Forty bumps and bruises.
Sometimes they sting a little.
Some I display with pride.
I look forward to the next forty.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 7th, 2009 at 3:00 am and is filed under Blog and tagged with aging, poetry, reflection, writing. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.