Coming of Age

Here is my recent poem that was published by Art Ascent Magazine. The theme was youth.

Bloom of youth had receded,

Leaving the purpose of her face.

Eyes once spontaneous, observing at random,

Now narrowed and lined.

Lips once plump, sensuous, and inviting,

Are now firm and pinched.

Cheeks once soft and full of life,

Are hollowed and sagging.

Hair once vibrant and shiny,

Now thinned and a dull gray.

If a child is the bud,

And the teen a blossomed flower,

What then is the senior?

A has-been, spent,

Decayed, and forgotten?

Oh, youth,

I know you are there somewhere,

Hidden in the folds of her past,

Brought out in the light,

At the simplicity of life.

Let not the senior be consumed in the fire and forgotten,

But give her treasures of wisdom and experience to the fawns,

So that they may learn from it, yet enjoy their youth while it is still here,

And not fear the coming of age.

photo of woman looking at the mirror

Photo by bruce mars on

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