To My Roselyn On My 68th Birthday Poem by David McLansky

Were Time a movie I could inhabit....
I'd play it only on the Sabbath; ....
Seeing you, your broad rimmed smiles, ....
A sultry woman, a trusting child; ....
And I would toss my ringlet curls, ....
Call you my glory, my winsome girl, ....
Glad that life could be recalled....
Re-living moments so enthralled; ....
We would picnic on the grass....
And I would kiss you, sudden, rash; ....
Seeing in your eyes acceptance, ....
My lips halfway to feared repentance; ....
And all the golden days of fun, ....
Blithely played as old re-runs; ....
Captured in the celluloid, ....
Our happiness, our games employed; ....
But Time itself can't be rewound, ....
It is a force that won't rebound; ....
It trudges onward, it's face grim set....
It marches forward with our regrets, ....
So that even memories are condemned....
To fade and blur as we contend....
With woes that cause us to decay, ....
We grow forgetful of the day; ....
But as you smile and hobble toward....
The hands that I'm extending forward, ....
I re-invade our history....
And once more you are twenty-three.