Poet's Corner: 'On Aging and the Loss of One's Marbles'

On Aging and the Loss of One’s Marbles
By Ellen Martin Story

Sad, to think I’m losing marbles these days.
Used to lose a lot when I was a kid
playing on the sidewalk.
Could never finger-flick other marbles
out of the circle. I remember
the marbles were pretty with colorful
veins especially in sunlight.
In college, I tried pool and
wasn’t bad at using the cue stick
pretty good at calling my shots —
a shame I couldn’t keep the pocketed balls;
they were like big marbles, only not as cute.
You can’t buy the kind of marbles I need today.
If I could trade an arm and a leg, I would
just to keep my marbles. I can’t see these
that I have remaining, except I think
some of the round black spots in my eyes
may be reflections of the older marbles
that no longer hold my memories,
those that float around unreachable
that I can’t finger-flick or poke
back where they belong.