Old age smiles slyly
from behind the glass doors
of the glass shelves
where homes youth and childhood pride
hanging precariously
unaware of time’s assaults
and its irreversible actions
reactions to which are limited only to imagination
a sachet of youth surreptitiously named blossoms
a range of lip dyes to brighten nights
a bottle of sandal wood oil
unctions of many kinds
contraptions to recreate fascination
for sagging body parts
energizers, revitalize-rs, augmenters
and a roll of pain relief bandage called
Medigrip Capsicum Elastic Bandage
reminders of unpaid insurance premiums
impending hospital bills
as good as new dresses
refrain of old good times
slurring speech
a distant look
a balding head
and a wagging dog tail.
Sentimental at the beginning (the mementoes of childhood preserved in glassed display cabinets), then humorous in a self-deprecating way, but apparently very dark, darkness itself, at the end–unless the “balding head” and “wagging dog tail” are clownish exaggerations. I’m guessing they are, because I remember the words “sly” and “smiling” in the title.
So I trust that the speaker in the poem (and the poet herself?) is not as upset about aging as it might seem at first reading.
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Yep, with progress of science and possibilities of extended living, why bother about old age? And I guess people are increasing turning away from humans to pets for consolation and company. I have thought of it too.
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