Warranty Expired

The light in the bathroom is buzzing and blue,

it shows every wrinkle and tells what is true.

I looked in the mirror and found a surprise,

a strand of bright silver right over my eyes.

A wire of gray in a forest of brown,

the first little sign that the engine’s run down.

The dryers are shaking the floor with a groan,

a heavy vibration that gets in the bone.

My glass on the counter is rippling fast,

as the minutes go by and the youth doesn't last.

Just a stray thread on a coat that is cheap,

a promise of silence I’m starting to keep.