To be forty years old is to be afraid of snow.

For the first time to hurry to fill a small crack

Against drift. To wish for less. To want to go slow.

Forty knows rails meet at the end of a long track.

Forty years old is when you honestly respect law.

You were young in your thirties, but now why pretend?

Suddenly you hope for yet fear change and a thaw

If the mercury in the thermometer should ascend .

Dancing is too much trouble, and travel, like sleighing.

You ache to think you'll never back along the road,

But remember roadside places well worth the staying.

And no one tells you how to be forty. No advice. No code.