04-04-2023, 08:19 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-04-2023, 08:20 AM by Quixilated.)
Gradually
I thought my parents were invincible,
immortal even,
but now my mom is eating for her heart,
and Dad no longer rides his bike out on the road.
I look at my own hands, my face—
funny how the mind plays tricks.
I never think that I have aged,
perhaps I am the lucky one …
and then a family passes by—
the parents looking far too young,
like children leading children.
Why are adults so young these days?
I thought my parents were invincible,
immortal even,
but now my mom is eating for her heart,
and Dad no longer rides his bike out on the road.
I look at my own hands, my face—
funny how the mind plays tricks.
I never think that I have aged,
perhaps I am the lucky one …
and then a family passes by—
the parents looking far too young,
like children leading children.
Why are adults so young these days?
The Soufflé isn’t the soufflé; the soufflé is the recipe. --Clara