An Age-Old Question…

For An Old-Age Mind…

What is it about later in life birthdays?

They often find one
sitting alone in a room
4 hours past the witching hour
with naught but
the eerily compelling
softly alluring glow
of artificial light
and mechanical heat
for company?

Whether alone by choice
or by insomnia
is beside the point
it’s the kind of alone
that’s not lonely.

It’s that kind of…

Alone in the dark
snugged in a corner of the couch
covered chin to toes but for the exposed
elbow that bends
the hand that holds
the wine that fuels
the brain to ask

So…

She gives in to the pull
sets down the glass
throws off the throw
unfurls the limbs
settles in front
and kisses the lips
of her secret keeping
story telling
question asking but
answer withholding
companion

Hoping that somewhere
out there

She’s met or
has yet to meet
at least one or
even better
a good number of you
older and wiser
new friends

And may it please you and to
whomever
whatever
wherever
you pray…

Can one of you?
Any of you?
By all that you hold dear?

Please?

Tell me?

Which came first?

The Chicken OR The Fucking EGG?

This, my friends, is what it
looks like
sounds like
feels like
to get old

Sitting alone in the dark, blahddy fucking blah, at what is now 3am, trying to celebrate another year, ONE HELL OF A YEAR AT THAT, of getting fatter, wrinklier, forgettier, and grayer.

I’m up to 54 shades and I haven’t found the answer yet!

Maybe that’s the point…

To keep on looking?

Still…

I Want to know!
I Have to know!
I Need to know!

Boggles the mind….