I am not aging gracefully 
    It is a painful slow thing
  Unlike my vision
 This is very clear
Old “friends” are distant 
     cold
The loneliness of snow
  has a beautiful white sheen
The sun’s peculiar 
  Winter brightness 
Hurts eyes that refuse to focus 
  These deep soft pains
In every joint
  Remind me of
    Transcendence 
Every day
 The vision of the cresting
     Inverts
   Into
Snow blindness 

Yea though though I walk through the valley of …

My hands hurt
    with a dull forever pain
Thinking back
    Over my happiest time 
Nothing comes to mind
    Immediately 
Because of this cloud of 
  “Wisdom”

February 12, 2025 SGL Brunswick, ME