Growing Old

We grow older every day.  The sun rises, sets; the months march onward, followed by the years.  I used to think that forty was old; actually ancient.  But that was in the glow of youth, before I arrived there myself.  I’ve amended my opinion on what is old.  I think now that old is a state of mind, someplace I don’t have to go unless I chose it. Until this morning…I plucked a gray hair from my head, examined the fine lines around my mouth, realized I followed the exact same routine each morning.  Set in my ways.  Growing older. 

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