Forties (An Older Poem I Wrote)

Forties.

A challenge and a blessing,

never realizing I'd survive,

or how I'd make it through this time,

and still I have.


Aged.

Not old just worn,

some say this of vintage wines,

and I'll say this of me,

of this getting older part of life,

one that brings about highs and lows of being alive,

this uphill hike I am making still.


Slower,

though I'm steady,

remembering this is how I'll win this race,

the one called life,

so I continue,

greeting the road before me,

welcoming the wrestle that awaits,

the aging that happens to us all,

refusing to be owned by forties,

yet making peace with it all the same.

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