Old Age Poem by Frank Avon
Old Age
Each day
is just another day.
We relive the past -
in long lists,
in lines we write,
in artifacts we handle
with our eyes,
in old pages turned again.
We live each day -
just another day.
Then we relive
ourselves living the day.
That's just the way it is.
Tomorrow will be
just another day.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: old age
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5/9/2024 8:11:27 PM # 1.0.0.1119
