All Ages
(For Will Jameson, on his 28th birthday)

Carissa Halston

 

To grow each year is time's eternal trap.
And so, in time, are we all rendered old
From youth's distinguished tree do we take sap,
In favor of prolonging things, all told.

Eventually, the tree becomes a dwarf,
Denying us its water, due to size,
No pond, nor lake, no rivulet, nor wharf
Could slake our endless need to youth-anize.

In reaching that day, lost of seemly vice,
We cling to youth through golden days gone by,
But in old age, we need not sacrifice
Our youthful whims for others' sounding cry.

You're every year and age you've ever been,
Rejoice in all the things which you have seen.