Fifty

When did time render me old fashioned
A slow erosion; suddenly worn
Half a century of paths backwards
Defining a sort of wake between
Running to some expiration date
Fruits have ripened cutting their own
Life doesn't seem fifty-fifty
The split never known until done
Blooming and fading in season
Growing not taller but deeper and wider
Strength measured in heart of hearing
Beginnings of grand birth still yet
Emotions bleed out in whispers and shouts
Melodic symphony of tears and laughter
Forming thoughts into actions
Breath of a woman's choices of steps