I joke about aches and pains.
Signs of getting old.
More wrinkles, more grey hair.
Signs of maturity I say.
Chores that took half a day,
now it takes me a whole day.
What was once easy to do,
now it is a struggle for me.
Growing old has its fears.
I see the challenges my mother faces.
As each time something breaks down.
And knowing there’s no spare parts.
What age is middle age?
As a child I was told fifty.
Is fifty still the half mark?
Maybe it’s different for each one.
I was supposed to retire at fifty-five.
Then the law changed it to sixty.
A blessing, I can still work.
And laugh off my aches and pains.
By C.E. Pereira