When the elevator doors opened
I could see,
Despite your effort,
The mild discus
That washed over your face
Seeing me,
Alone at the rear of the car.

You entered.
Turned your young back to me
And selected your floor.
You were in elevator mode,
And I was elevator polite,
We never spoke.
What I wanted to say,

"Old age is not contagious,
Nor can you open your legs to it
Like STD.
You have to work at it
Everyday,
Old age is something you earn
For grit and perseverance."

I wish you well
Wherever you go
Wherever you are
My desire is you too will age
In your time,
And at your personal pace.