I watch the old man with his walking cane~
groaning and grimacing from arthritc pain~
and I cringe at the thought of growing old one day~
with dentist made teeth and hair turning gray.
I am scared of old age and its wrinkled skin~
of not remembering what happened and when~
of fragile bones and driving too slow~
of being alone and just letting go.
But though I am selfish, I still see the truth~
and I am not seeking some fountain of youth.
And when I am old and rocking in my chair~
I'll tell young ones stories and have wisdom to share.
And as I look back to the "good old days"~
I'll laugh at myself and my youthful ways.
And in my wisdom I will see~
That I am still the same person I used to be.
Copyright © 1992 Heather Bahnmaier. All rights reserved.