Joints creak,

years fly,
age creeps.

I’m not young anymore,
but I still wear my experience well,
I think.

In ten years time,
or twenty,
I will probably look back
and laugh at myself
for feeling old today.

But life feels precious this morning.

My soul leaps to grab
the autumn rays coming through my window,
and I wonder how to greet
the wolf of age
who prowls outside my door.

                                                                —K. L. Saward, age 56-11/12