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Old Soul

They tell me I’m an old soul

When I explain my love for

Mid-afternoon tea times.

They say it again; when

I explain how I prefer staying

Cocooned inside with a good book.

Once more as I come

Dressed reminiscent of Ama’s

90’s retro clothing

Some slide offense

Into the words, but

“I say none took”.

Apa used to say,

“Linger on what brings you joy”

When others tried rushing me through life.

I’ve always dragged my feet

Whichever way they took me

In an attempt to find that joy.

At times, others condemn me

Saying I’ll stay stuck in the past;

Except I'm simply moving slower.

I’m told I lack

Grit, motivation, and earnestness but

I tell them I have “patience”.

Because I have an old soul

I listen to tunes

From Ama’s young age

Blend with the unique sounds of cicadas

And the slow draft of wind

While I lay on a field of swaying grass

With a hand over my heart.

I feel the

– thump

– thump

– thump

Under the shirt Ama once wore at my age

As the sun bathes me and

The clouds grace me with the shapes of endless beauty

Thinking to myself,

How could I ever not love

Lingering on the sweetness

Of life like a youthful couple who

Giddyly take each other's hands for

Their first slow dance and spend it

Laughing at stepped-on feet or slight stumbles.