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The poet laureate of Park Slope, who is of a certain age, weighs in with this poetic offering.

“The Middle”

The fabled golden years
Exist in legend solely.
And even then, be stowed
Only on the holy.
Despite the rabid rants
That come from youthful runts,
Embrace the summit years,
You’re middle-aged just once.
The fortunate age of 40
Puts you at the pinnacle.
Post–pimple-dreaded passion,
Pre–endless games of pinochle.

Updated 4:34 pm, July 9, 2018
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