The Joys of Aging
by Joe Solberg

My left knee grinds as
I feel for my misplaced
Glasses then hobble towards
The Keurig, trying to recall
How many times I peed
During the night.

Two cups and it’s off to
Walgreen’s for my pills.
The Buick’s rear-view mirror
Reflects coarse, gray
Nose hairs, a perfect match
With those in my ears.

I find the pharmacy, ease
Into a close spot, gingerly
Place my brown loafers
On the pavement and shuffle
In for pills, vitamins, and
I forget what else, and smile,

Because at home, the girl who
Said “I do” four decades ago
Will later make her thousandth
Meatloaf, while sipping merlot
And watching reruns of
Barney Miller and St. Elsewhere.

Up on the mantel rest
Pictures of our children,
Now husbands and wives making
Their own meatloaf, with
Kids and school photos to adorn
Their fireplaces and walls.

In two hours, it will be
“Hi Nana,” “Hi Papa” as
Grandkids descend, bringing
A joy only us old folks know, as
We are reminded again that
Aches and pains are gifts.


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