Upon Turning Fifty Poem by Bill Cushing

Upon Turning Fifty



If you’ve done life right
you do not feel or even
see the years coming
until they have long passed.

One day you look down
and see the hands
of an older man:
gnarled, blunt, corded

with venular ropes of age.
The lines on the face
in the mirror seem
as if they have been there

always.

Now you understand
how far the distance
from the start actually is.

The body has not yet betrayed,
but it’s well on its way,
and you know that

the fight has begun.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Cynthia Buhain-baello 04 March 2010

This is beautiful and introspective, relevant and very honest. 10++++

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Bill Cushing

Bill Cushing

Norfolk, Virginia
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