Reluctantly

A strange thing happens as I age,

Which cannot be controlled.

I tend to focus, everywhere,

On people who are old.

 

Today, a doctor’s waiting room,

A check-up for my eyes,

Was filled with those so elderly,

From seats they couldn’t rise.

 

As names were called, they shuffled out,

(Our wait time very wrong!)

But watching them, I wondered,

Is this group where I belong?

 

To get there, on the bus I sat

As people moved inside,

With canes and walkers, hoping

For a seat unoccupied.

 

And on TV, up on the stage,

On Oscar night, I saw

The older actors missing

All their sparkle, once a draw.

 

When I was young, I rarely noticed

Seniors within range,

Yet now, reluctantly, I see

My view’s begun to change.