Do Not Blink...

Do not blink...

A fast and sad tale
by Judith Angell Meyer


How do I pen a cliche’
so it isn’t the cliche’,
but the reality.

My skin has soft little wrinkles
that look like ripples on water.
Yesterday it didn’t.

When did I start needing naps,
that have now become mini comas.
Yesterday I was working until I got my second wind.

The mirror seems to feel the need to taunt me
with an image of someone I do not know.
Yesterday the image was 18.

When I forget and sit too long,
it takes the length of the room to work out the stiffness and pain.
Yesterday, I didn’t have time to sit.

I won’t think about this today
I’ll do it tomorrow
But, tomorrow was yesterday, and the year is gone.

I must have blinked while laughing in the face of spring,
a brief summer warmth on my eye lids as they go down,
and as they started up again, fall is turning to winter.