Fifty Five

My fifty-fifth long ago
disappeared In the rear-view
mirror. Another birthday looms
mirrorless –
unless
I can find a looking-glass that zooms
in and out, magnifies my cuckoo
soul, the one with the glow,
gorgeous
and free of blemishes.
Old age crosses the road
slowly, turning to smile
knowingly, making me wait
at life’s crossing.

Kim M. Russell, 15th July 2018

100_1507

While Hedgewitch is on a personal leave of absence, Kerry is inviting writers of Flash 55 poetry to link up a poem in the comments below her Flash 55.

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