Featured Poet: Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

COUNT THE DAYS

When your
birthday comes
things seem
to change now
and then.
Your age starts
pulling
you back and
forth. You
weep for time
lost. Hearts
become weak,
hair falls
out like leaves
fall from
trees in fall.
You get
up tired, your
knees ache.
On the street
the old
man is you.
The young
remind you.
Even
your height starts
to fall,
while your eyes
fail you.
People walk
faster.
The young
seem to take
things for
granted. They
seem to be
nearly
immortal.
While you
count the days
instead
of living
those days
like you should.

©2008 Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal