poem on aging

as a child when i told her i was afraid she would die,
my mother would reply, i’m too mean to die

you can’t get rid of me that easily

(which was so far from the truth.)

well, i’ve got so much more to live,
i want to age like a fine wine

and it’s only recently that i’ve been crushed

and am fermenting

let the grapes mature and age in their unique flavor
we each have something all our own to share
and i’m so young with so much left to give.


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