Michael J ORourke2


Middle-Age Secrets

I have middle-age secrets to tell my son
While running in China with my meetings done
I wish I could read him my poetry tonight
With the unclouded moon casting her autumn light
I wish I could tell him of the ache in the heart
How the maples sagged as if missing a part
My Chinese hosts offer praise and honor
But the mind wanders off to hug Little Conor

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