We Grow Old Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
We Grow Old
We grow old now
We grow old now
And yet
I will not call you son!
The trees and woods bend
To the humble earth
Incline
In sleep birds animals and
All, in the dark deep.
And dream.
And dream.
And dream.
We grow old now
We grow old now
And yet
I will not call you son!
Friday, May 8, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: aging
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5/4/2024 5:55:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
