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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