Knowing When

By Mark Fleisher

Once heartthrobs and icons
now shuffling on and off stage
often supported by a sturdy arm
of a trusted companion

Words still remembered
messages still clear
sung by voices less vibrant
Surgeries, injections
cannot mask aging faces
bearing witness to
too many years
too many drugs
too many drinks
too many nights

Why do they go on—
the crescendo of applause
the swaying of contemporaries
mouthing words
they've known for decades
standing ovations now automatic
as if part of the script

Now I approach similar days
wondering if I will know when
or will I stubbornly go on
needing an escort to where
my words will be heard
then helped to a comfortable chair
before taken home

It is said of musicians
athletes, politicians
perhaps even poets
go out while on top

Advice hard to heed when
the roar of the crowd
still rings in their ears