April 1st

I see some skin
beginning to wrinkle
and a faint age spot
here and there.

I taste foods
mild and clean.
Too much sweet,
my mouth can no longer

And what my mouth can’t take in,
my ears now can.
Sweet songs of love
anger, separation, and sadness
now lacking.

In my life
I’ve traded in
raging roller coasters
for the small, simple boats of
“Its a Small World
After All.”

I sense the day
is the same as all the rest
even though
today is
my birthday.