Mid-Life Crisis (9 September, 2015)

Sitting in a coffee shop -
a nod to my younger self -
but there's no coffee, no cigarette,
no easy flowing inspiration.

Oh, I'm still full of angst,
just a different kind ...
That turbulent, emotional storm
that used to fuel creative fires
has now mellowed into a series
of melancholy days
of wistful nostalgia
and aching boredom.

I long for the rose-colored simplicity
of my younger days
when my body was lithe and nimble,
my mind was open and wild with Ideas,
and I was blessed with a circle
of co-conspiring friends and family.

How have I come here
to this table for one
alone and stifled and softer -
so much softer -
around my bones?

It's not the aging I mind so much,
rather the brazen limitations
of a life of routine and practicality.
I'm afraid, one day soon, I may die of it.