KJ Hannah Greenberg’s most recent poem to appear here was On Her Birthday, That Threshold of First Roses, published as part of Contributor Series 11: On Birthdays in July 2012.

Fifty Is Years Old Enough
By KJ Hannah Greenberg

Fifty is years old enough to sprout white hairs,
Wear elastic-waisted skirts, sing off-key,
Additionally, to rub eyeglasses clean on trousers,
Handkerchiefs, tablecloths, maybe also slightly used linens.

Fifty is years old enough to read Tarzan, Rumpelstiltskin,
King Kong, Little Red Riding Hood, Captain America while exclaiming
Such tiff surpasses Camus, Hesse, Kierkegaard, Sartre, ought
To be taught, instead, come next term’s freshman English.

Fifty is years old enough to need memories held fast,
Gripped tightly, bound and rebound in spectacular narrative,
Captured as parenting topics, while children rehearse flight,
Even when such assemblages can cause initial difficulties.

Fifty is years old enough to question one’s outermost valances,
Severing, perhaps, current loops of convergent communication,
Reassembling habituated consumption of personal services,
Especially those helps understood as portraying vulnerability.

Fifty is years old enough to take steps toward fleshy prowess,
Define physical goals, strategize corporeal plans, actualize body changes.
Gravity gets forgotten in the company of wisdom lines, silvered fur, fat,
Bumps, spots, warts, hangings, danglings, and other marks of age’s beauty.