old. (30)

it startled me.

those white hairs popping up on people I knew from grade school.

there were some in my beard.

we were getting heavier.

or thinner.

worst were the ones I saw seldom.

radical change, it seemed.

their faces had changed so much

and sometimes it was hours later

I recognized their eyes.

this was all too soon, I thought.

and if I could see it happening to them,

it must be happening to me.

I tried looking in the mirror,

but I kept throwing out my chest,

standing up straighter,

turning to my better profile.

what if I really was looking older?

I thought I'd noticed a change

in the way young women

smiled at me.

dear god.

these kids with mohawks these days?

they're starting to look like idiots!

didn't I used to have a haircut like that?

and those lines on my face.

no matter how rested I was,

there they were.

often I felt creaky,

like a car with frozen springs.

so sudden, all of it.

you watch more carefully than I did,

my son.

try to see when this all starts

so you avoid it.