by Angela Prew
Age brings wisdom
or so we’re told,
so why am I more foolish
as I grow old?
Why do I forget the things that I know very well,
names of articles and people,
and dates, appointments, punchlines
of stories that I tell?
Why does the simplest action
take twice the time that once it did?
Why can’t I remember why I climbed the stairs
until I start again?
I wish I had the energy that I had when I was young
and that I still had a brain.
Pleached Poetry 