how awesome
for even
one grant’d wish
to
the pleasure
the pliancy
the plainness
of Youth
rush runging
the ladder
to seize Hereafter
to
the laggard
the lapse
the languidness
of Eldership
but
for the Life
that I Love—
for the Love
of my Life—
I’ll keep Today’s harvest
be the fog
thicker
the sidewalks
more uneven
our thoughts
often lost in thought
yet whenever I feel
the lifelines
of thy fragile hand
with mine
‘tis yesterday’s light
I behold
in that fairest of faces
