At Sixty

At sixty

I am still not consumed forever

Life still flickers

Though not inflammable

It's peculiar strength

Comes from bygone years

By now I should have given up

On having a heart....yet I am not heart-less

Till now.... nor am I green with envy

Of those who possess sweeter memories 

Of days gone by and left in hand

Nor do I yearn for my baby teeth

To show off the whiteness of my soul

Virgin in its longings

At sixty

I am my own self 

A little bitter...a wee bit better than

My former self with roots firmer still

Stretching to the ocean 

Where all tributaries mingle

And loose their own selves

In shape, colour, creed of being human

Shared with Poets And Storytellers United