My friend, my age, laughed bent over,
when I told her we had become seriously aged.
“Seriously aged? What does that mean?”
No more greeting card humor, I responded, covering
up the facts, poking fun at 50 or  even 60,
as if it were all one big joke. No one teases
us about being 79.
It’s the real thing.                                                            
My friend stopped laughing for a bit, “Seriously?
It is all one big joke, isn’t it?
I forget about it most of the time.”
Well, I do, too, I answer.
But I forget a lot of things.