Isn't it funny
when suddenly after all these decades
you notice a new part of your body.
Maybe the hamstrings—
entirely unused when lifting weights,
back used instead
which then pains for years.
Maybe the slight shoulder raise
that tightens those muscles
maybe for good.
I notice my body
slide through time.
It is odd and peculiar,
genius of no one,
a perfect clock
making clocks
look simple.
Newness comes naturally.
Resisting it causes the past
to present memories on yellow
platters.
My age is a number.
Bones getting ready to play poker.
I will remain a small book
hidden away deep
in the library.
I love my body and this world!
Such a declaration
five years ago
would've driven me insane.
But now an appreciation arrives
with a fine taste of sulfur
and anywhere I look is born
a rose.
Copyright © 2019 by Zubair Ahmed. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on May 20, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets.