the way we were

i feel

old, she tells me,

doing stretches

in the living room as the dog

stares

at her from

the couch.

she touches

her toes,

and says,

one two,

three four.

i'm not young anymore.

my best

days are behind me.

i feel chunky.

i lower the newspaper,

and say,

what?
did you say something?

i rattle the newspaper

and hold it out

for her to see.

hey there's an

old movie

in town,

Three Day of the Condor,

want to go see it?

Robert 
Redford. you loved him.

she moans with the last

jumping jack,

and grunts,

sure.