Your Children

by Christos Polydorou

My rage
My sage

My age
I saw none

of it
coming

The
ageing

I had
heard

about it
vaguely

The
uncageing:

What on
earth

comes
next?

The
breaking

The
softening

The
lightness

that
comes

with
age

These
are

not my
children

so
it is not

my
obligation

to raise
them

My
biological

clock
ticking

I
didn’t

hear
it

coming.

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