Birthday

Took the day off, an old habit, I admit
made plans (a museum maybe)
sitting in front of the computer (on my bed) at noon
summoning up excitement (like I should)

Every year, a bit of the old magic gets rubbed away
little by little
like cityscapes erased
by the incoming fog of old age

I am not old (yet) I know
but as certain as others assure me of the fact
I am aware that I am young ( no longer)

The evidence is clear in the lackadisical way I tell old friends
thanks for your kind wishes
the unwillingness to get out of bed
to celebrate (what and how) I am unsure of

The reason (why) I am reluctant to wake my sister up
who is (still)
dreaming
young dreams