I turned 61 like an autumn breeze: A poem 

I turned 61 like an autumn breeze 

rattling the hinges of the window 

It takes a year to grow older 

But it only takes tomorrow 

to make a fresh realisation 

I can laugh with the sorrow 

the grief of making time abate 

around the corner 

even as little regrets turn to closure 

How swift it all seems… 

Yet, how slow is suffering 

Though it is a feeling of pride in being brave 

And a sense of humour to vindicate   

like a roof-glass that reminds you 

of the age of the day 

like those moments slipping past 

in a wisdom that grows heavier 

Because some realisations weigh you down 

that you can only forgive with reason 

Otherwise, you just tolerate 

And you wonder which of these causes you more pain 

making you wish the lessons of experience 

would not preoccupy you… 

but just go away!