In awe of the simple brutality
of aging:

not that
it’s without beauty,

or that joy is not
present, even in the moment

when you know
your true age at last

and it’s exactly right
as it is, even

as it assumes the mantle
of finality; when it settles upon you

that you are exactly
the right age, soaking

up that brief moment
becomes the work of a lifetime.

The simple brutality 
of it: the casual swift recognition

that while this may not be the end,
it surely is trending.  It surely

has a feel to it, 
and this is how it feels.