“The Ebbing of Time”

Poem of the Day, Tuesday, November 19, 2024

Flowers along the Oregon coast

“The Ebbing of Time”

Just had a birthday this month,
not a big one, but a year older
and wiser (I tell myself).

I looked into the mirror
that day, wondered
what had happened to the time
when I had more hair,
auburn and cowlicks
both front and back,
and a younger face.

I had seen this face, shaved it,
washed it often, even admired it,
every day for decades,
but that day I was taken
aback, a bit startled actually
at what the ebbing of time
had done to me, almost
without my consent.

Now, as I return from the gym,
I no longer feel as healthy
or as strong as I used to be.
Exercise has turned surreptitiously
into pure maintenance.

Yet, as I watch others come
and go to the gym, watch them
struggle up the stairs
with their canes, hanging 

tightly to the handrail,

or exit the elevator
with walkers, others just slow
and easy, shuffling as they go,
I realize I still walk fairly fast
and upright, most days,
run some when I really want to see
my younger self come alive
(and pay the prices later),
row lots of meters and minutes,
and then climb back downstairs
and out the door, feeling pretty good
about the morning workout.

Even when I look in the mirror
on those gym days, I try to still see
some youthfulness through my trifocals,
sometimes without glasses
just to see if there is a difference
and marvel at the ebb and flow of time,
now mostly downhill to awareness
looming large in the distance.