Against the day I am powerless 
so I rise 
to face it 
in the mirror. 
a vaguely 
familiar face 
I wash it, 
shave it, 
prepare it 
for a world that will not see it. 

The children are first off the mark. 
They are young 
and carry 
less weight. 
When does it change? 
When will they feel 
gravity as if for the first time? 

My wife is next to leave. 
She carries 
the weight 
so gracefully 
it looks 
The strength 
of this Woman 
keeps it all 
from collapsing in on us. 

The weight that is mine comes in pieces 
I can 
barely lift. 
They are 
in my chest, 
on my back, 
and legs. 
Without crutches
I am hopeless, cannot walk out the door.

This weight is not the same for you and me. 
This weight 
has a cost.
This weight
its due.
This weight
exacts its toll.
This weight
we each have our own price to pay.