Dust, the deterioration,
Blooms allergy,
A gnawing scratch
of an unfolding
A slight itch, a runny nose
The ache in the back
And soon to knees it goes
The inflammation of over
Reaction and reach
The apothecary of spice
And skepticism:
Ginger and turmeric
Spike white and green
A thought of remedy
Unused becomes a growth
Unseen then discovered
Withered to be discarded
Renewal, a growth grotesque
Deteriorate, dust
Allergy, shrivel
A thing to discard.
I’m itchy already. Nice. Another happy aging poem. Stop writing about me!