In awe of the simple brutality
of aging:
not that
it’s without beauty,
or that joy is not
present, even in the moment
when you know
your true age at last
and it’s exactly right
as it is, even
as it assumes the mantle
of finality; when it settles upon you
that you are exactly
the right age, soaking
up that brief moment
becomes the work of a lifetime.
The simple brutality
of it: the casual swift recognition
that while this may not be the end,
it surely is trending. It surely
has a feel to it,
and this is how it feels.