The pristine
flesh
stretches unblemished and pure
over the unbroken ribs that protect
the unbroken heart
that shines like the sun
through the eyes that can still see what life is about.

And that life
with its few weeks and days and
even fewer years
has found a better way to live
than these aging hands,
this heart with the stitching scars
and limping pulse on veins and
arteries that
have long accepted the abuse that
the reality of
life
always
always
always
brings.