The Last Box

Val Mills on Nov 22, 2009

Don’t you just hate it when you reach the age where you have to tick the box that indicates your age ….. and you find it is the very last box!

The punch of realization flattens me

as I claim the last box.

No more boxes after this

until the one I’ll be farewelled in.

One small box,

a white space inside black lines,

a flick of the pen

announces my age is now

Over 60.

Is there a use-by-date? A deadline?

Rules, on how long I may linger

in this last box?

I ponder on the distinction of arriving

at this esteemed destination?

Many faces and masks traveled with me

on my journey this far.

Fragments of my life swirl around me

like a sandstorm –

slowly subsiding until

every last grain drops, settles,

finds its own place.

Who am I, the holder of the pen,

the claimant of the box

at the end of the row?

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Comments (2)

Christine Ramsay on Dec 2, 2009
I do know what you mean. I felt like that a couple of years ago when I reached that age. I felt so much younger and almost rebelled against having to tick that box, but that would have meant not receiving my state pension. There was no contest. LOL. A really good and meaningful piece.

Christine
sloanie on Dec 7, 2009
I’m over 60 fit and happy. I say what I like, no Job or Boss
to worry about.
Tick the last BOX you BET!!!!!!!!!

Hi there!