Us who are lucky

How many miles I would have walked
had I known
this was coming -

how many paths with grass
dripping morning dew
on my socks with each step,
the sun just over the tree line - 

or a rock strewn trail winding up
through cramped pines 
to catch a glimpse, at the summit
of other peaks gathered 'round like neighbors -

how, you ask, did I not know
age was coming -
it comes for all of us
who are lucky.