How Old Do You Feel?
How old do you feel?
she asked. What a stupid
question I thought.
I’d just turned fifty
and felt fifty.
Twenty years later
I still feel fifty, but when
I look in the mirror,
I don’t recognize
the one who looks at me.
When I first heard
about video phone calls,
I thought,
What a stupid idea.
Why would anyone
want to see the person
they’re talking to?
I’d have to brush my hair.
That was before
I discovered FaceTime,
and the joy of real-time
chats with grandchildren
in Canada,
and before your death
left me with unfixable
unbearable longing.
O to see you,
to hear your voice
even in a silent dreamtime.
When you left us
you were forty-one.
How old do you feel?
*
Roseanne Freed lives in Los Angeles. Poetry helped her survive Mahalia’s death so she knows it will help her survive the fires which surround her home in the San Fernando Valley. Her debut chap book “Your Name Is A Poem” published this summer by Picture Show Press, is available on amazon. She is honored to be a member of ONE ART’s poetry community.
I am so sorry for your losses. This is a beautiful, uniquely expressed poem.
Hello Jean Mikahail. Thank you. Sincere apologies for taking so long to respond.
What a beautiful poem. We don’t realize it’s an elegy until the last stanzas.
Thank you so much for your comment Michael Simms. Sincere apologies for taking so long to reply- we moved right across the continent.
Beautiful, heartbreaking, dear Rosie.
Thank you so much Donna. I apologize for taking so long to reply to your message.
I love your ability to make loss and belonging feel accessible to everyone.
Hi Edith, Thank you so much for always being with me when you read my poems.
Oh my heart breaks for you Rosanne. Also for Rueben. It is so sad. I’m so sorry. Holding you tight. Just relax in my arms. You need the break. You need to rest. 🙏🏻🥰🙏🏻😘🙏🏻🤗🙏🏻
An unbelievably difficult loss and your voice and pain come through so clearly. Sending love and hugs, Rosie.