This was actually inspired by the first chapter of a Milan Kundera novel I just re-read – Immortality.
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She lacked grace, her attempts were laughable
As she desperately tried, to follow
instructions. Her frustration palpable,
covered in wry smiles, she didn’t once wallow
in self-pity while learning to swim, for fun.
They didn’t need her now, the nest was empty
a chance to live for herself, not for son,
nor daughter. Time’s sudden generosity,
left many hours for minor indulgences
long denied. I watched her, no doubt thinking
of Two Thousand Twenty Six, dulled senses,
arthritic bones and a stature shrinking,
When she raised her hand in a girlish wave,
Twinkling eyes signaling she wasn’t time’s slave.
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