The Deterioration of the Body

My hands

older now

than when last

I checked.

They still move; they still know

their way.

We all know this.

Old body

working out

this cool knot

of time

needing no atonement

yarn spilling forth

into some other

minor tapestry

so many colors

timeless, for what it’s worth

old body, like a gear

cranking on towards

some further loop

it is only now

this body sings, the life

it knows so many other things

like water

like glass

the glittering on the wave

or these two hands meeting

in rest

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