It’s been said, and I’ve said it many times on this Signal Fire, aging is a gift. You know the old cliche, that it’s a gift denied to many, and so we should all do our damndest to appreciate it when it comes. Still, some falter at this, some fight the slowdown, the silvering, some inject, inflate, or cover-up. Sad, this.
Typewriter Series #3088 was born from this idea, and more, from the wrinkles I am seeing every single day when I look into the mirror. I’ve never feared these lines, I’ve never wished them gone. They are the bird feet prints I have waited 42 years to earn. This poem was born in the acceptance of the age that comes, if we’re lucky, for us all.
It’s a short one, but below is the typed version, as well as my podcast breakdown and spoken-word recitation. I truly hope you’ll join us as I’m posting a lot more of these for the members. It’s amazingly cathartic to jump behind the scenes, and I hope you find it that way too.
In the comments, let me know if there’s any poems you particularly want the backstory for, or a deeper dive into. I’d love to give you this.
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