Rather than birthdays that mark my age,
wedding anniversaries tend to remind me of
time’s advancing swiftness. My youthful self
is fading fast — all those silly musings
used up oceans of energy.
The old folks can often be overheard saying:
Youth is wasted on the young.
This is an untranslatable adage for anyone
under the age of forty-five. I get it now.
My own youth was wasted completely unaware
of just how much I would appreciate my own
mature mind and spirit even in the absence
of taut glutes and the whitest of smiles.
My own youth was spent ignorant of the immense
satisfaction that can be gained from long
conversations with my favorite human and being
asked, so what do you think?