Each decade is a shock of revelation.

True, by looking back we know we grow.

We age, we laugh, we cry, we grieve,

and the racing river of time does not cease.

Wild hairs, fine lines that turned to wrinkles,

the sagging body, the weakening grip.

The old mirror is a silent and harsh critic,

no matter what spotlight illuminates our way.

In my mind, all life is still before me, but

The mirror bares the brutal truth.

“You are old, Father William” Alice said

in Wonderland. He did not seem to care,

But the young girl I was only yesterday

Is shocked to see all her white hair.