Growing old

looking up to the sky, where an odd star
casts its light my thoughts go back to
yesterday to what we lost to what we gained

memories of laughter, memories of the days
after whenever the time we'd celebrate with wine
the sound of little feet

the sound of crying in sleep, the happyness of
a bride in white children on my knee climbing
a tree

it all seems so long ago, slowly growing old
I smell the flowers of time that grow along the
line of life

the scent is growing stronger must I leave now
somebody's calling yonder walking towards me
he takes my arm

leads me up to the steps someone wept
I didn't look back

(c) JR. 1985