Driving at Night


Driving at Night

Once upon a time,
my hair was brown and curly,
but now it’s straight
and as white
as this drifting snow
that clogs the windshield.

I smooth down my hair
with my fingers:
swollen knuckles,
crooked joints.

I burn with feverish thoughts
yet cold blood shivers
through my arteries.

blind me in my good eye.
The other one’s useless
when I drive at night.

It’s a long time
since I last saw,
let alone touched,
my toes.

Putting on my socks
or tying my shoelace
is a morning no-no.

Short of breath,
of agility,
with no ability
to climb up stairs:

what happened
to my youth?

Where did
my childhood

8 thoughts on “Driving at Night

    • Thank you, Aruna. Getting old isn’t always easy. I am starting to realize what my parents and grandparents went through! It’s easier when I write about it, though. Then I can laugh at myself and my worries.


      • Yeah.absolutely true.but i think-one man can be old by physicaly but not by heart if he has positive attitude.here i m posting a gazhal (a type of song) sung by malika pulhraaj n written by a sufi saint hafeez jalandhari.if u read it then u will feel what i m saying.

        Liked by 1 person

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