no one asks how I feel anymore
is it because I’m getting old
and they really don’t want
an answer
or might I say something otherwise upsetting
to their already frantic day

I look old with silver-gray and black
flecks of hair on the one head I’ve always
owned
but my spirit is fresh and young and interested
in things galore

like today, I saw a young man
riding along without a helmet
on a red bike
and I asked him at the STOP sign
how’s your head feeling these days
in the wind with no
protection

I thought that was a fresh question
not of an old woman
but like a funny friend
strolling in downtown

no answer
a glare, stare

I wonder is the hair I own
a giveaway of distance
of the old that I am
but not really