On a cold December morning,
At 1-something a.m.,
I screamed my way into the world.
Time's been ticking away since then.
From toddler ways to school days
To career and marriage and childbirth,
Wondering where all the time went,
Wondering what it's all worth.
Amazed when I Google to find
Exactly how much time has ticked by:
Twenty-one million, thirty-seven thousand
Nine hundred fifty minutes. Oh. My.
I hesitate to write this,
Because I want no undue attention.
I'd rather quietly mark the day
In silent, brooding detention.
Tomorrow, I'll knit and bake and shop,
Decorate for the holidays to come.
I'll drink coffee, read, listen to music,
But from reality, I think I'll play dumb.
No one can convince me, there's no possible way
That I'm reaching a milestone so cold.
Middle aged? Over the hill? Ten years from AARP?
I refuse to admit I'm four decades old.