Setting sun on a Blue Moon rising
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
