Royal Blue Flush

The clear, royal blue backdrop of
a crisp morning curtain rises above the eastern sky on
a Sunday morning in Northern California.
I have dyed my hair, something I said I would never do,
and waxed my eyebrows hoping that age would
turn down another block and
pass me by
but my body aches when I rise from a night of sleep
and I forget the names I held
so close once.
Try as I might I cannot get a
job that I can live with though once
in my not-so-well-spent youth I felt the fullness of
success that left me with a sense of security.
Now I fight everyone younger than 20
for a spot inside the door and seldom make it across the threshold.
I find solace somewhere running a 10 minute mile at
my age and reveling at
a river otter scampering around the water tank near
Howarth Park,
a white egret poised, statue really more than bird, near the lake's
edge,
and my breath and legs in unison and
enough money in my wallet for a perfect latte.
It is not enough and
yet
it is what I have in this life that includes
getting older and
being present to win.
Any day now things will change, I tell myself, and
for today,
I shall hold the image of a royal blue flush
across the sky above Annadel
as my northern star.