Approaching Seventy (Poetry)

I didn’t see old age coming
and now it’s here
deaf to how swift years summon
loud and clear

Unobservant — almost wilful
as time’s quiet snake
slithered past quick and skilful
leaving barely a mark
                                in its wake

Now age has arrived and I
have to make room
for these aches and pains —
ailments gather in the gloom
weave ugly nests of grey
where cuckoos grow
youth and health’s twin chicks
long-since flown away

But what of middle-age?
it came and went
like a season between seasons
time borrowed or lent
to tide over until
                        the inevitable

So I didn’t see it coming
blindsided — bemused
I should have had an inkling
for surely there were clues
everywhere I looked
age caught up steadily
how could I then imagine
it wouldn’t corner me?