why you growing so fast

by underswansea


My lung capacity seems diminished. The last mountain I was on there was times it felt I getting air through a straw. My balance is off. Thought I might fall off a log into the creek. I’m not in the shape I once was. The mountains seem higher. I give it my best during sex and still haven’t had a complaint, but . . . can’t say I give a shit if I don’t make it to the top anymore. Call me selfish. Getting old is gradual. You don’t notice until it’s too late. These days I take my time; notice the tops of the trees. Mercifully nobody pushes me. I linger beside the orchids and lilies. Willow can go at any pace. I remember what that was like.