Spot, spots, spotting

All over my hands!

I thought they were freckles,

I am dismayed, chagrined

And so disturbed now

That they are of my age!

I'm spotted, as time marches on.

Motled and cespeckled

As my hands share the years

Of my face, my eyes.

It comes as no surprise

That in growing older

I am less bolder

That I ever was

With these spots on my hands.

07/29/2008

Author's Note: ... I enjoy my age... I always have....

Posted on 07/29/2008
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