Saturday, July 21, 2012
I usually don't make a big fuss over my birthday, but this is a landmark: in everyone's reckoning I am now officially OLD (bona fide senior citizen). In honor of the day, I'd like to share a birthday peom written by Garrison Keillor and adapted for my specifics.
A BIRTHDAY POEM
by Garrison Keillor (2007)
It was a birthday I had dreaded for months,
The threshold to Ancient and Historic,
Brooding over how I was so young once
And never would be again.
And then came the day itself, so very ordinary,
Quiet, dappled with sun, delightful
One fine plain day on our excellent desert
And the ordinariness was its great gift.
Nothing happened. Coffee, Fried eggs. Turkey sausage.
A hot shower, the ordinary stuff of happiness,
To which I hope every morning to awaken
Until one day I don't, which is not for me to guess.
You turn thirty, forth, fifty, and then (O my God) sixty-five,
And it's all the same: to be simply, deliciously alive.