Unbirthday

I don't want to be Benjamin Button.

I like where I birthday now.

But I think my peak has been reached.

Small coloured candles of my accrued years

Melted would make a rainbow pillar of wax,

Mismatched and lurid but pleasing to see

Which would burn still, with a brightness

That flickers with the wind that life sends its way;

But it would stand, still,

Softening gently with heat and steadily,

Diminishing with grace,

A new shape forming

From the years contained

Slightly stooped, leaning

But upright - just.

I would not want to unbirthday;

Those years are my own

And I am glad for them.

But if new ones could ease towards me more slowly

In a trickle,

Mellow and nonchalantly-paced,

I could descend from my peak,

In control and carefully,

Step by measured step,

Taking time to enjoy the view.