Arlene Corwin Poetry

    A Slowing Down

So strange, this creeping slowing down.
So foreign, downright alien;
On, in a frame unrecognized
From toes to eyes.
Going on from day to day
The way it does, because…
The goal is one way only,
And the universe is lonely.

When you’re prone to talk about processes,
Fitting into classes read about,
You know something has passed
You see yourself as in a looking glass:

BMI* too much, too light;
An unknown part coated with fat;
Four, five senses not quite right;
Ears, taste, smell, sight…
Skin dots, spots alive;
Yet brain: fantastic, sharp, creative.

Living in a now
That plows through shams
You took as real.
A gift to make a meal of,
Let’s not make a big deal of
The fact that it, the body’s, slowing down,
An Entire Slowing Down 5.30.2019/rewritten 5.30.2022 I Is always You Is We;; Arlene Nover Corwin
*body mass index