the old skin
a patchwork of spots
and strange bumps
dry as the desert
wind-worn sands of time

bags baggage
and budding wrinkles
yet I feel 
thirty five inside
mirrors tell cruel lies

remember
when we were thirteen
the blood flowed
to our tender parts
that now sag and droop

my doctor orders
"use it or lose it"
I asked my 
lover for help
gone those quickie days

I recall
the verve of my youth
as I trudge
up the seven steps
to the old folks home

at the airport
my hip replacement
triggers off alarms
so much attention
for all the wrong reasons

those days
when I got second looks
now long gone
even the mirror
seems indifferent

far away
I pass for mam'selle
keep me
under soft candle light
turn off the lights

my grandson
challenges me to a race
around the block
my counter proposal
a game of bocce ball

long ago
I ran barefoot
over river rocks
today I ponder
taking off my shoes

on my arm
a new liver spot
I shed tears 
peeling onions
the layers of my life

back then
wanted  to be ballet thin
in ten years
will I want to be 
what I am now

as I age
the uncertainty 
of my youth
yields to the sureness
of maturity

I accept
to sit in mystery
not always
have the answers
nothing is permanent

in old age
I start  to drop things
the plus side
better reflexes
catch me if you can

my wit is quick
lived long enough to know
let it flow
laughter is the key
the way to set me free

Miceal H. Lester and Genie Nakano

Originally published in Rafu Shimpo
 and Atlas Poetica
©2026 Genie Nakano All rights reserved. Please do not reproduce without author's written permission.