At least for now, I’m done with feeling old.
I slipped two months ago, and tried to bow
to age advice as daily ache unrolled,
at least for now.

Improvement stalled, increasing creasing brow.
And signs of weakened eyes and ears foretold
diminished sense, but I had voiced a vow,

and rested on. Impatience took its hold
at last. I’m dancing and I’ll not allow
decrepit point of view. I’m gently bold,
at least for now.