Sappho 58

                rest

for the girls
the Muses, perfumed with violet, brought gifts

                rest

and the clarifying lyre

                rest

once supple skin’s gone dry

                rest

like milk my hair has turned
my heart drags
my knees, on which I used to leap and buck, now buckle

daily I suffer this
what else could I do
no one can stop for Decrepitude

and so it is said Dawn
with her rosy wrists

            (w)rest(ed)

fine young Tithonus
to the far reaches of the earth

but old age got him good and gray in the end
the license said he had to stick around anyway

Source: Poetry (November 2023)