Joy and aging, together,
Comprise the smallest subset
Of lyrics about aging.
Myth is another matter,
A bride dragging history
As explanation at heel.
Lyric is her secret name;
Myth cherished generic names.
Did she encounter aging?
No. Did she encounter joy?
Hard to tell, but everyone
Runs into some now and then.
Let's say joy is now, aging
Then. Then we're rare together.
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