For we are old

The small talk has dried up   for we are old
Many have gone and those who remain have
all but forgotten their youth when the world
was full of promise   It’s true that some still
cling to the past
                        but their narratives are
worn threadbare in the telling   Among them
the most lucid are those who remember
their first love    and that sweet sensation of
lips touching lips as eyes met and one hand
grasped another    how together they strolled
down to the river and watched in silence
the water’s timeless flow  Wisdom comes at
a price and it seems that almost always
what is learned comes too late
                                          and we are old

John Lyons


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