Nemesis

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Every morning in the long process of waking up to a youthful day
a stern voice tells me that I’m sixty four.
In the bathroom the tap was running
I turned it off but it still dripped 85 times before it stopped.
When fully awake
I wasn’t sure whether I had been dreaming or not.
The day though was real
it had been raining during the night
the air was clear, birds did their turn
and my garden looked new.