I’ve outgrown my youth. There are new lines underneath my eyes, maps of an ordinary life worth living. Now the moon wanes into a slice of silver. Now I’m throwing rocks into the pond, wrinkling water stretching far and wide. I dream that I am old, sliced and wrinkled with age, and I am happy.
I dreamt that I was old
A Blog to Regret 
And here I dream that I am still young, that I can still run, But my marathon is almost over …
It’s not over until it’s over! ☺️
Indeed. And we still await the fat lady …