We lock eyes each day

 

that stranger in the mirror and I

 

She smirks as I wince at the wrinkled reflection

 

Who is that woman with strands of silver

falling across aging eyes?

 

She follows me as I walk swiftly down the path by the sea

 

Silly thing, she struggles to keep up

 

I bend and twist and reach for the sky as she rests

on that old park bench

 

I laugh and climb the hill two steps at a time

 

She falls further behind

 

disappearing as the day carries me away

 

It isn’t until evening creeps in and my frenetic energy wanes,

that she reappears

 

Our eyes meet again as I reach to dry my freshly-washed face

and I see my counterpart, wincing

 

It’s been a long day

 

 

 

 

photo: Pinterest

prompt: Poetic Asides