At Seventy

I learned the truth at seventy, That naps outrank celebrity. Not crowns or gowns or Botox eyes, But orthopaedic shoes in size. The valentines that went astray, The ones who ghosted back in May, All blur like Netflix shows I’ve seen, At seventy, I drink — caffeine.

The mirror shows a puzzled face, Who is that? Did I misplace … My jawline? Brows? Oh, never mind — They’ve left for younger humankind. The loves I lost, the dreams that crashed, My Wi-Fi too — it never lasts. Yet peace arrives (with herbal tea), The grand prize gift of seventy.

A brown-eyed girl in thrift-store gowns, She rode life’s ups, survived the downs. She learned that filters fade away, But laughter lasts (ugh! so does grey). Those high-school queens with perfect hair, Now post old pics — “Throwback!” — beware. Their queendoms gone, their Botox spent, They rule the realm of peppermint.

So pity not these lines I wear, They’re stretch marks of a life affair. The debts of love, the price of cake, The joints that creak but still don’t break. The game was rigged (I lost my keys), But losing brought such joy — and cheese. I’ve found my worth (and hearing aid), At seventy, I’ve got it made.

To all who cried through dating apps, Dismissed with swipes and took long naps, You’ll find, in time, your sweet release — When no one texts, it’s inner peace. For every “no” life threw at me, Became my badge of victory. Now dreams return (with decaf tea), I’m chill, I’m wise, I’m seventy.