Having Aged Gradually As Trees Do by Ed Coletti

Having Aged Gradually As Trees Do

I’ve begun telling people I’m old
doling activity sparingly as napkins
from small restaurant owners.

She wants nothing yet to do with aging
Fatigue the silt of activity
dawdles in moments wantonly spent

On my black leather couch
where black dog on my blue
jeans sleeps content.

Today’s fortune cookie my sacramental:
Act as if it were impossible to fall

That’s the way I first read it
through rapidly failing eyes

There a mountain me climbing
gravity-stuck/falling impossible

With my eyeglasses retrieved
its meaning diminishes to
impossible to fail,

Proof indisputable that metaphor
carries more of reality than
human experience easily imagines

Or according to Novalis,
Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason

But what here of wounds when per Kerouac
no one falls off mountains and

Acting as though failure is impossible
each of us remains a rooted oak

Until such time as rivers from the sky
cascade down over and through us,
and roots rot, loosen and finally fail.


Ed Coletti is a poet widely published internationally. He is a graduate of Georgetown University and holds Masters Degrees in Creative Writing and in Business Management. Ed also is a painter and middling chess player. Previously, he served three years as an Army Officer, college English instructor, then as a Counselor and later as a Business Consultant. He has published a dozen books. Journals include ZYZZYVA, Volt, Spillway, North American Review, and The Brooklyn Rail. Ed curates the blog “No Money In Poetry.” https://edwardcolettispoetryblog.blogspot.com/