growing old

I like growing old
eyes no longer sparkle with
authentic simplicity
earth tones shadowed in fields of wrinkles
darkening but still witnessing
there’s an island in a room
the same room on every island
with a window full of clouds
or a gray wall
so close you could almost lean out
and touch it
from the 7th floor
opening the door that didn’t lock anyway
for the burglars
then the angel came and I quit doing drugs
and looked people in the eyes and even then
they lied and it looked like truth
*
who wants to speak from the heart in
such a heartless business?
the higher you rise here the farther you are
from heaven or so it is said
this sadness is gone far beyond sadness
back to original ignorance
and it is all that you need to know
to go on
*
that every truth becomes a lie
is true
but this time you realize you were important
enough
to be lied to
*
I apologize
to all those who struck me
I cannot return a single blow
although I promised I would
*

growing old

Anthony DiMichele

Friday Harbor, United States

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