Growing Old Poem #1

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Growing Old #1

by Jane Tawel

Fidget and Bust

And feel the gears rust.

Irascible waste,

Mired in one place.

But wearing which groove?

Can I still choose?

And wearing which crown?

Digging down

Digging down

So daunting to move.

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One thought on “Growing Old Poem #1”

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