NOW THAT SHE HAS GROWN OLD
(or cheers for the old girl)

---

She tarries at a distance
Upon the hillside knoll
As we enjoy our play.
I call; she hesitates, but comes,
Tail wagging - transient youth,
Rejuvenated by the spring.


You, younger lass,
Take cover, crouch, and wait
For instant of best speed.
A spotted target,
You know she cannot turn -
Her quickness lost to age,
You can outrace her in a wink.


And then you start, gain speed,
And meet her with a crushing blow.
Your rebound, resilient,
Is graceful and unhurt.
She loses footing, tumbles,
Rolls, and yelps.
"Why have you done this?
I thought to join your play!"


Joy, shared, is undiminished.
What jealous spirit motivates
This hostile sport?
A mischief in the blood -
I think it more!
Your mocking play demeanor
Conceals a deadlier vice.


Queen bee, that will a kingdom rule,
Dispatches without rancor
Her upstart, younger siblings
Ere first they see earth's wonders,
And the first light of day.


She let you live,
Encouraged you, in fact.
You know she's not your mother,
Though that she might have been.
Yet she is your mother's cousin
And served your mother's stead.


I called - you did not heed,
Selective deafness,
Instinct at bay.
If not my presence,
What bounds would
Circumscribe your game?


She did not challenge,
Taunt, or bluff.
For bluffs were sure to fail,
And taunts provoke your ire.
Something innate,
That does not need a challenge
Impelled your wanton deed.


The frailty of her aging joints
Betrayed a calm,
And gentle, dignity.
This you could not stand,
And thus, need it destroy,
To humble and control.


Her time grows short,
Your time is now.
Yet seasons turn,
And all shall fade.
Know then that age has had its day
As balance sheets are tallied.



james e. seltzer - april 8, 1997