Jogging Downhill

At 40 when you run downhill

You feel as jogging up did at 20 still

That crick in the neck from high school camp

Is there in the middle aged morning damp

That bright invincibility all kids possess

Dissipates like smoke with age unless

You rage against the advancing night

To keep awake your youthful light

Like those magic Montreal dawns

When we used to talk all night long

As stars crawled across the arch divine

We emptied a bottle of cheap table wine

Until our heads were by happy slumber bent

And unto dark and sleep our bodies sent

So friend, I hope that you will

Race with me down that hill

Till we collapse in a spent content heap

And once again drink wine until bent unto sleep