Old age

'An ode to old age'
I see her sitting out on the porch, bright as a star.
I want to sit by her, listen to her stories, but I am late for work and then I am late for gym and then i'm late for the movies; days go by, then weeks, then months.
And before I know it she is not there anymore, I am late again. All her stories, all that she had to say, all that I wanted to share was left unsaid.