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