it’s every other days these days..

It’s every other day these days

when days blend into each other

in the other way the mind plays

out the way of the dance of age as it

weaves a little faster, a little faster

 

So, it’s every other day these days

in the get to it of the way some rituals

yawn and stretch out in this new say

of how it might go and then again not

of the way the bones creak and the neck

 

Finds it sag and the crow flies along

eyes that have seen decades of coral skies

and gasped at the Milky Way making

night caps in the cup filling and pouring out

in the hush of love and tears of sorrow

 

Of when we did the clever sash-shay

with youth a blush and wink laid out

on moist sheets tossed over the sprawl

of naked lust in hungry repeat of

never enough, in the never ending play

 

There is sweetness to the remember

with the every day occupied by the

sooth of age and the settle of wrinkles

that don’t iron out and the map of veins

surface to display the long winding journey

 

Eyes adjusting to the new light rising

and letting every other day be fine

Wise to the fact that perfect is imperfect

slowing down in the speeding up fits

the pleasure of aging wisdom