We grow, even as we think we shrivel,
Where our bones decline, our backs sink
Our joints ache and stiffen, we drink
too much, now, and sit and swivel
in our office chairs, and wash our mugs
quietly in the office sink, and we think
that we are done growing, just faded ink
worn out days and prescription drugs
And we are still growing, watch your nails
twist, and watch your hair extending out
and listen to the words that all fail
how they blow into the corners, shout
quietly where they can be most frail
And leave their tendrils in the must and grout
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