Upon Turning 45

As Summer into Autumn slips

 by Emily Dickinson

.
As Summer into Autumn slips

And yet we sooner say

"The Summer" than "the Autumn," lest

We turn the sun away,
.

And almost count it an Affront

The presence to concede

Of one however lovely, not

The one that we have loved --
.

So we evade the charge of Years

On one attempting shy

The Circumvention of the Shaft

Of Life's Declivity.