It used to be that my favorite part of baths were the whirlpool That twisting tornado of water Spiraling out of control as the dirt and soap disappeared Into the darkness But what if instead of water and dirt It was our life? What then, would be draining? Emotions, and youth Decisions and mistakes. Memories all swirling away into nothing. That must be what if feels like to get old. As the last drops of warm water escape Leaving only the cool air on our wet pruny skin.