22 years
22 years

These days I wake up on my own
The pain in my knees subside from the odd hours of sleep I collect
When the sun peeks over the horizon time stands still
In these moments I reflect on what time has made of me
All the possibilities once proclaimed……..

The worries slowly begin to build on my body

Will the new day show sympathy?
Or add new doubts to my mound of trivial hopes?

An agreement is made,

Although hopes may have passed
new ones will always grow,
maybe they’ll grow to maturity,
and I’ll put the sickle aside.

Foolish myron,
You’ve made it to the springtime of being
all around the environment is ripe
Yet you take refuge in the haze of fall,
and take rest with gray winter…..

I sit with my glass of wine
Memories jump from one to the next
Colorful springs from long ago
Then time puts me to sleep and the sun wakes me again.