Things Fall Apart
Am I old when, from a distance, you see
Hair protruding from my ears?
Or when I smile at those I can’t hear?
Am I old when I can’t remember
Catching anything one-handed?
Or when two attempts are needed
To escape from a chair?
No, it’s when old barriers finally fall,
And, companion of tears,
You watch misty-eyed at
The shabbiness of old paint peeling
Painted with the one you loved
And falling into contentment:
Conversations with the mortal coil
Of secret memoirs, that feed the soul
And as you fall, you fall nearer to heaven