An Aging Villanelle

I find myself watching old music videos and I flashback to when I was nineteen

and in college, when I thought I knew everything and I speak

about the world in chapters and verses as if I have seen

it all.  Now I am in my forties, and I wish I had foreseen

how I had focused on the details, and I found myself lost in every critique

instead of grabbing onto experiences and adventures.  The routine

of my youth was full of semi-truths, naivety and caffeine.

Now, I find myself listening to the whispers and how my bones creak

and know there is a story in every snap. I mean

my bones aren’t breaking, but I just need to lean

on objects a little more when I walk.  I am not weak,

but I need a few more minutes to reach my flow and my scene.

Everyone tells you when you are young that your thoughts are obscene

and ill-informed, and you spend your youth searching for the new and unique.

You almost lose yourself in the in-between

and when you finally find yourself older and no longer a teen.

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