Turning Forty
written by: John Grey
Who’s that over there,
partly-hidden by shadow?
Is it death?
The robe, the scythe –
sure looks like it.
I’m forty, not eighty.
There’s been a mix-up.
It should be my girlfriend,
here to help me celebrate.
Not the chess-playing guy
from “The Seventh Seal.”
Doesn’t death have
better things to do
than stalk a man
with barely a gray hair
in his head,
who works out at the gym
twice a week,
who just made vice-president at work,
who’s as young as he feels,
and I feel more thirty than forty.
Wait a minute.
It’s not death.
Just a blustery curtain.
And there’s a knock at the door.
It must be Michelle.
Death doesn’t knock.
When the time comes,
It lets itself in
For now, it’s just me
has a key.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Soundings East, Dalhousie Review and Connecticut River Review. Latest book, “Leaves On Pages” is available through Amazon.
Latest posts by John Grey (see all)
- Turning Forty - December 30, 2025
- Winter in The Park - September 24, 2025
- Now That He’s Gone - June 29, 2025
