days
when you feel prehistoric.
everyone
is younger
than you.
policemen,
politicians,
lawyers and doctors.
you look around
at all the lineless
faces
in the cars
flying by,
the full heads of hair,
you see
the spring
in their steps,
the young children
in their arms,
you sit down and watch
with a wry smile,
this brave
new world.
it's their turn now.
which
is fine.
you gladly make room
and let
them pass by.
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