Don Kingfisher Campbell

Fall

 

When the first white hairs

popped out of my beard,

I knew my summer was ending.

 

The 40’s, my fifth decade,

had begun, and it was time

to embrace the dad bod.

 

Oldies stations started to play

80’s pop. Students calling me

Santa Claus’s younger brother.

 

Circumstances made me

single again as I turned 50.

What to do after so many years

of domestic complacency.

 

I looked to my friend

the internet for ideas. All

it offered me was more

porno and dating websites.

 

Finding a date was easier than

expected, but find someone you

want to marry, that’s different.

There are qualifications.

 

Not too young, not too old,

not too tall, not too short,

not too fat, not too skinny,

not too brainy, not too stupid,

and that was me gazing in the

mirror at my own reflection.

 

Entering my seventh decennium,

beyond the trial and error of

my 50’s, I finally met another

person with the same dream.

 

Now we can look forward

together to the proliferation

of age spots, blood and urine

test results, and the gradual

decline of our abilities.

 

At least our winter might

not be lonely, if we are faithful

to the future, we will be

rewarded with maybe two

possibly three tens of memories.