Tuesday, 29 January 2013
Proof of Age
By Marc Leavitt of Marc Leavitt's Blog
At twenty nine, I looked my age,
At least, I thought it clear,
A bartender, not on my page,
Sought proof to serve me beer
I had a wife and kid at home,
A job for board and bed,
I was adult, how dared this gnome,
To question what I said!
I vowed this stuff would come no more,
A moustache did the trick,
And years went by with no encore,
Until I was no chick.
I wear a neat grey beard today,
It suits me not to shave,
And proofs of age, I often say,
Are not the things I crave.
[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]