Birthday Bulletin: 60 and Counting!

Send flowers. It's my birthday.

I'm sixty years, all told.

Some call me wise and wonderful,

but I just call me old.

The wrinkles that once graced my brow

are marching down, by threes.

Confined to brow, they charmed me...

but en masse, they're enemies.

(And things I should not mention here

are dropping to my knees.)




And yet, I'm stoic as can be,

though hair escapes my head.

Some follicles I have are frail,

while others are quite dead.

What's more, "dark blond" has turned "bright white."

(Does that give me age cred?)

If so, I'm credible indeed.

But what a price to pay!

I'm sixty and I know it.

(My hips tell me every day.)

They still move when I get my groove on,

but they creak! Oy vey.

So step right up; let's party down.

(I'm old, not DOA!)


©2012 Susan Noyes Anderson


;)


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