Thank you, Mary. This is actually an old, reworked poem from my first attempt at Medium when I got run off the platform for being a mansplaining, rapist enabling, sexist, chauvinist Sus.

It really isn’t only about women. Clearly at 65 I’m not the man I used to be. I’m certainly a bit shorter and stouter. Even those still svelte were clearly not young. Male or female, you can only be who you are now.

Time is rarely kind, regardless of gender. I attended my 45th high school reunion a few years ago. The bodies of the boys of summer and the princesses of old were not there. But the individuals were, mostly more interesting than they were 45 years ago.

Gravity is inevitable, but you don’t have to let it have the last laugh. :)

Honorary Schizophrenic. Recent refugee. Displaced person. Old white male. Confidant of cassowaries.

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