It’s a good thing we develop a taste
for adventure when we’re young—

that urge to plunge across the river
and climb the mountain ahead
comes in handy

as we sit in waiting rooms
nodding to others who are trekking
through the land of needles and drips.

It helps to recall the feel of horse hair in your fist
when you galloped bareback across the mesa,
on those brilliant days when you were
more Geronimo than Socrates.

The landscape is new, but you’re still the star
of your Oscar-winning rom-com thriller,
only now you have to watch your step
and hold on to the rail when going downstairs.

You may have left your tango behind
with most of your mojo
and your tomorrows may not shine
as they once did,

but at least you can chuckle
when you see the girl in the blue Toyota
speeding through a red light
thinking she needs to get where she’s going
sooner rather than later.

And wish her well.