Aged

Aged

I have not aged 
Like fine wine
--protected in an oak barrel
Or a cultured cheese
--aged in a cool damp cave
I have weathered 
Like an old barn

Exposed to the elements

Time has taken its toll 
I was well kempt 
And sturdy once
But now my skin is called crepey
Papery thin with fine lines
Wood rot and termites
Have eaten my bones
I am leaky
And saggy with fatigue

My usefulness is over
Where once I sheltered others
I am now too porous
And wobbly 
All my windows are shattered
And doors are unhinged
So a strong wind 
--or emotion
Can easily knock me down 

Occasionally someone
Will open my door
Or carry my bags
Or open a jar
And I cry with gratitude
For this kindness is rare

It's not easy growing old
When all that is seen
Is the same familiar frame 
It isn't even noticed
That the painting is gone.

bjbeyers 2023