If I'm Still Alive Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

Sunlight paints my wrinkled hands,
A gentle warmth, a life's demands
Now softly settled, like the dust.
My eyes, they hold a quiet trust.

Five years have flown, a fleeting sigh.
Eighty years have drifted by.
My steps are slow, my breath is deep,
Secrets that the seasons keep.

My hair, a crown of silver spun,
Reflects the battles I have won.
My laughter, a sweet, creaky sound,
On memory's familiar ground.

I sit and watch the children play,
And dream sweet dreams
of yesterday.
A gentle smile, a knowing gaze,
Lost in time's sweet, hazy maze.