I long for strength
as creeping age….
I long for strength as creeping age
keeps signaling tomorrow’s way
of changing scenes; the present stage
on which I constantly must play
is yet alive as I must strive
to memorize my lines today.
I fear not age, but time’s neglect
of my nown body’s freedom sweet,
yet move free-willed and circumspect
with purpose time shall not defeat;
beyond, the snow will somehow show
a path to guide
my faltering feet.
And if I must reminisce, speak
sometimes of happenings in the past
when spring of youth was at its peak
and time seemed not to pass so fast,
think not of me, as one to be
approaching wintry age at last.
For down the stretch betwixt extremes
of seasons that must ever change,
fond memories like pleasant dreams
illuminate life’s gloomier range –
a light in that forboding night
of solitude so downright strange!
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