Aging Out


Inhaling the strong breath of coffee,
he stares while I feed the dogs, slice a banana.
He places the cup gently on our table.
We’re both having trouble
navigating our oldness.
We resist but it takes us anyway.
Words repeat like scratched records.
Hearing fluctuates, fingers crack,
radioactive wrists crumble.
We sling sarcasms at news shows
whining away precious days,
wishing politicians would combust.
I stare at him too.
He’s a blur, then a man,
then a blur. I want to remember him.

About the Author

Bobby Sidna Hart lives in North Carolina. She attended Nyack College in Nyack, New York in the 1970’s remembering her time there with fondness. In 1986, 1987 and 1990, Bobby was a Sam Ragan Writer-in-Residence, Weymouth Center, Southern Pines, NC. Her works have appeared in The Crucible (1987), Pembroke (1989), NC Poverty Project (1989), Book of Days (1997, Wake Forest University), Kakalak (2018) among other fine publications.


Share this Post


  1. Beautiful artwork accompanying the poem! Thank you.

Leave a Comment