Times Refusal

Youth takes my hand and holds me back,

as old age points the way


Unwilling yet to leave this Spring,

as Winter calls my name


The image in the mirror fresh,

the one my eyes now see


Of Lochinvar and Lancelot,

in dreamlike fantasy


The children see me older though,

their children older still


My spouse afraid I can’t accept,

what time and seasons will


I hold on tight to wings that splay,

o’er fields both green and gold


And shun the backstairs of my fate

—refusing to get old


(Trumbull Connecticut: February, 2017)

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