two years ago I tried too hard...

fifty is a year one must surmount
by leaping on, no parachute,
a fool and her passel
some tango steps relearned
a recipe for champagned love

at fifty-two there are the young days
when I share popcorn and confidences
with my girl, and I am sixteen once again,
but happier yet, a giggle here, a curse word
ooh! my mami is so cute!

there are the days, the Thursdays mostly
when the mirror magnifies each wrinkle
points out those places where the gray
now overtakes the darker brown,
and now the giggles may become a groan,
not yet a Thursday and a Friday...

there are the days of blush upon the mountain
the necklace of familiar constellations
the smell of firewood, when age
is meaningless

two years ago I tried too hard...