Are We Old Yet?

he asked me
and I couldn’t answer him.
Old? Is there a line in time
called “old” where one day
you’re not there
and the next you cross over
and you’re in?
I don’t know.
It’s all strange territory.

“The Golden Years,” it’s called,
second childhood, maturity,
the third stage of life, retirement,
or the Spanish version, jubilee.
The experts (who are here, there,
and everywhere) tell us
there are three stages:
young old age, middle old age,
and old old age.
I guess that’s helpful.

So where are we?

Something inside tells me
that when we stop asking silly questions
we will have arrived.
But without the questions
how will we know where we are?

In the meantime, as long as
our legs hold us upright
and our eyes and ears
are somewhat operational,
we’ll just keep on walking,
looking around, listening,
and asking questions.
Are we old yet?