And Thumped Him on the Head (2/2/06)

It finally happened to me today:
A woman, sitting near me on the bus,
Stood up and offered me her seat – no fuss,
No bother – noticing my hair was grey,
She stood and smiled, and I was forced to say,
"No, I'm not old enough." I didn't cuss,
I didn't cover up to hide a truss –
But, damn, I'm only fifty-two, okay?

Today is my wife's birthday, but I'm old.
We spoke this morning, looking at her hair:
Three single strands are white, which, if you stare,
You might or might not find. I'm feeling cold,
The whisper of a ghost story that's told
About a middle-aged man in a chair.