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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