Ode to Age

I am not pristine. I am weathered.

My flesh bears the mark of all my indulgences and injuries.

Though it was I who stumbled, my body fell.

I love my carriage now.

It has borne me along all these years.

I know it, recognize it as mine, am grateful for its service.

A home for my soul, twisted no longer.

Came through the dark night, my starling, to shine.

4 responses to “Ode to Age