Birth Days Poem by Cindy Smith

Minutes grow to be hours that meld into days.
The days shade imperceptibly into months.
The months fold over into years
then the years dash into the decades.
And before you can even imagine it happening
you’re sitting at some corporate desk somewhere or
on a bar stool or in church
about to turn fifty wondering what the hell happened!
Where did it all go?
Someone from High School emails asking you to
“help out on the Reunion Committee”
Oh God!
Your significant other wants to go to Europe
“before we’re too old! ”
You’ve got to be kidding!
Your son needs to move back home
“…just for awhile” Thanks for nothing W!
You hear yourself thinking “I’m too
young to be a grandparent” as your
daughter announces “I have some really great
news Mom and Dad! ”
Is she old enough to be a parent?
Were You?
Too many thoughts begin crowding what’s left of your mind.
Off to Bed! The last safe refuge.
Tomorrow’s another day that Lord willing
you won’t remember what happened to either!