The Death of Memories

at 20, I danced with men who smelled of Polo cologne thinking only of me at 30 when I nursed my baby, I had no thought to ever wash my hair again at 40, I drove the kids’ car pool all day without complaining at 50, I sat up past midnight waiting for teenagers to come home, fearing the worst at 60, I sat up past midnight waiting for my husband to come home, thinking of divorce at 70. I sit alone

waiting for these memories to die